Know Your Smashers
by Lady Chitose
Summary: Some strange story involving a studio, an announcer, a cameraman, and the Smashers. And a pink citrus scented camera. Read at your own risk. [Complete, so take it off of your alert list already!]
1. Mario

**Know Your Smashers**

* * *

This is my first Super Smash Brothers fanfiction. This is based off of Know Your Stars from All That. I know it's been done before, so I'll try to make it more original. Note that this chapter has been completely has been rewritten. 

**Disclaimer: **-insert hilarious sentence about not owning Super Smash Bros. here-

**Note: **The potrayals of the characters do not reflect my opinion on them. It's just for fun.

* * *

A large, plain gray building stood in the middle of nowhere. No one had seen it or entered it before, perhaps because the few people to pass by were afraid to do so. One day, a shady, villainous figure chose to claim it as its own. Thus, the "Know Your Smashers" studio was born. 

"From now on, I'll go by the announcer," the unknown figure decided, setting up a personal office in a cramped room on an upper floor. It was perfect for viewing the whole lower floor without being seen by the victims.

The announcer was on one mission: to humiliate the Smashers. First was going to be Mario, Nintendo's mascot. After using some mystical powers, the announcer transported the plumber to the studio.

"Mamma mia, what-a happened?" Mario asked, wincing in pain.

"Why hello there Mario!" the announcer gushed in an eerie voice. "Have a seat."

Mario hesitantly crawled towards the black chair and sat in it, awaiting his doom.

Suddenly, the lights went dim, and some unfamiliar background music echoed through the studio.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers…" narrated the announcer.

The petite protagonist squirmed unnervingly and shielded his eyes from the flashing lights.

"Mario…he cheats on Peach with a Playboy bunny."

"Actually, that's my brother, Luigi," Mario replied matter-of-factly. He became a little more relaxed. "But he doesn't really cheat, seeing as how it's nearly impossible for him to talk to women, usually…"

"Well then, Mario…he uses Lysol as perfume."

"Sometimes, because of the fresh lemon scent!" Mario grinned.

Awkward silence…

"Anyway, Mario…he was once engaged to a cheese block," the announcer said flatly.

Mario replied, but in body language instead of words. He stared into the ceiling and cross his small arms, showing he was not amused.

The announcer muttered something softly and jumbled through a stack of files and other scattered papers. After coming across a certain file, the announcer snickered darkly.

"Mario…he raids Daisy's underwear drawer and sells them on eBay."

"Um, why would I ever do such a thing?" Mario asked apprehensively, pulling on the collar of his shirt.

"I knew it! The records don't lie!" The announcer cackled.

This confused Mario. "What records? Do you stalk me?" He raised an eyebrow crossly, awaiting the announcer's response.

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Fine then! I'm leaving!" And with that, Mario jumped from the tall chair and exited the studio, pouting along the way.

"And now you know Mario, the underwear-collecting cheater that loves Lysol."


	2. Link

Judging by the chapter title, you can guess who's next.

* * *

Link, who was running a comb through his golden hair, came on stage and took a seat in the chair. 

"Oh look, another guest!" the announcer gushed, causing the startled Hylian to release his comb in fear.

"Don't do that!" whined Link as he reached to the floor to grab his comb.

"It's my job, elfy. Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers…"

Link was too busy staring at himself in a mirror, trying to fix a cowlick and clean the dirt off of his comb. Unfortunately, he wasn't skilled at multi-tasking, so the comb slipped out of his fingers once again.

"Link...he once tried on Zelda's dress."

"That was one time, and that was because Pikachu dared me to in Truth or Dare," he justified.

"Oh sure, I believe you," the announcer said sarcastically.

"Really?"

"Yes, Pikachu told me all about it, and he told me you enjoyed it."

"Well, I didn't. It's tight and too itchy."

"Link…he stole that sword from a drunk man in Okalalanahry," the announcer broadcasted.

"I don't steal. Does such a place even exist?" Link pondered, scratching his head in confusion.

"Yes."

"Where?" Poor Link was unable to keep up, as he was apparently mentally slow.

"In Zelda's dress! You stole it while you had it on! That's why you enjoyed it!"

Link blushed furiously while the delightful cackling echoed in the background.

"Link…" the announcer paused. "He teaches math to first graders."

"Huh?"

"Link…he washes his hair with vinegar and olive oil."

"WHAT?" Link screamed so loud the earth might have shaken. "I only use the best salon shampoo! How dare you insult my hair."

"Link…he got this 'salon shampoo' from an Eskimo in Antarctica."

"No way man! My hair dresser only whips up the best for me!" He waved his head like a model and an unimportant fangirl squealed.

Link winked and waved his hand in her direction. "Call me," he simply said. With that, the fangirl fainted and an ambulance came to take her away in a pearly white van.

"As I was saying…Link…He is a weak elf in a miniskirt."

"Dude, first you insult my now my hair, now my clothes! It's a tunic!"

"A tunic that he is too hot for!" shouted yet another unimportant fangirl. She wore a shirt that read, "I am Link's #1 fan!" She even had a tattoo of the male Hylian on her left arm.

"Guards…get her out of here," demanded the announcer.

Two muscular male guards picked her up and took her to the town's best therapist. The therapist who specialized in the study of fangirls, their reasons for being one, and prevention from becoming one.

"Oh yeah, where were we? Ah yes, I was saying how dumb that outfit looks." The announcer snickered ruthlessly.

"That's it! I am done with hearing these lies! I'm outta here!" shrieked Link, still blushing a deep shade of red as he exited the building.

"Now you know…Link."

"No they don't!" he wailed after opening the door again. Afterwards, he slammed the door behind him and scurried away.


	3. Ness

Hello again reader. This time it is Ness who shall be teased by this announcer person.

Disclaimer: None of the characters in this chapter are mine.

* * *

Ness strolled in a poorly lightened room, dragging his baseball bat. He spotted the chair, took a seat, and waited for what happened next.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers," chimed the announcer.

"Who's there? You scared me!" Ness shivered, his bottom lip trembling.

The announcer sighed. "Just doing my job kid. Ness…he carved the lyrics to the Barney theme song in Popo's hammer."

Ness got a surprised look on his face. "I wouldn't do that! I don't even know the words to that song."

"Right…."

"It's true!" Ness objected, with the possibility of there being a hint of guilt in his voice.

"Ness…he just admitted that I'm right," the announcer declared, sounding satisfied.

"No I didn't! I was saying I don't know the words. Honest!"

"Sure…." The announcer responded sarcastically. "Ness…he stuffed his hat with fried tuna yesterday."

"What? Who are you and where do these insane lies come from?"

"I'll just say I have my sources."

"They're wrong!"

"Ness…" the voice paused for dramatic effect. "He is so weak, he gets a stunt double just to lift his own yo-yo."

"That's not right!" Ness yelled back. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his yo-yo, showing off a trick. After that, he rolled the string back up and tucked it away. "See? I can lift it. I'm not the strongest character, thanks to Nintendo, bu-"

"Silence you fool! That was your stunt double. I know it!" The announcer proclaimed.

Ness obeyed, saying nothing and guiltlessly spinning his thumbs in miniature circles.

"Ness…he showers every 1st and 3rd Tuesday each month."

"Eww! I would smell really bad if I did that." He crinkled up his pea-sized nose to show his disgust.

"You do."

"ARGHH!" Ness screamed in frustration.

"Ness…made out with his baseball bat for exactly 4 hours, 21 minutes, and 9 seconds last Friday night."

"Who told y- I mean, no I didn't!" Ness blushed.

"Aha!" cried the announcer, as if he were a detective that had just solved a mystery. "So you did. In case you're wondering, Pikachu told me."

"I'll kill him."

"You can't."

Ness asked, "Why not?"

"You'll need your stunt double if you want to use that pathetic yo-yo attack, and I heard he's going to Hawaii for a vacation for a month."

Ness's face boiled with anger and became a deep scarlet. "That's it!" He declared. "I'm leaving."

"Now you know…Ness, the wimp who needs a stunt double and makes out with his baseball bat," our unknown announcer concluded.

The young black-haired boybegan to sob and stomped off.

* * *

There's Ness. I don't dislike any of these characters; I'm just doing this for fun. And I will make chapters for them all. Next up is Marth. 


	4. Marth

This will have more of a plot towards the very end. All of the characters will speak English in this, no accents or anything, except maybe the Pokemon. Anyways, here's Marth.

* * *

Marth would be walking in, if he weren't on top a flood of fangirls. They carried him in, screaming madly, and set him down in the chair after the security guards chased after them. Marth used his velvety soft cape to clean the lipstick from his face, but just ended up smearing it all over, resulting in a messy swirl of pink, red, and brown on his cheeks.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers," began the announcer.

Marth flashed the camera to be what he thought was a picture perfect smile. The announcer just laughed cruelly.

"You're just jealous of my good looks," Marth said haughtily.

"You wish. Marth…he wants to be an Oscar Meyer wiener."

"No way! That song about people being in love with one of those is just not true. Besides, I like being me. I get plenty of attention from fangirls."

"Marth…he is slower than a frozen slug stuck in dirt."

"Naw, I'm very graceful and quick. I'm so much better than Roy."

As if on cue, a storm of Roy fangirls waiting to see Roy marched in and stampeded over Marth. He yanked his sword out and threatened to hurt them all. Since them had all played Super Smash Brothers Melee, they knew it was true. Marth was good with a sword, so they ran out.

The announcer sighed. Marth was too conceited and cocky to get annoyed. Maybe, just maybe…

"Marth…his fangirls only like him because he is good with a sword."

"Yeah I know, thanks for the compliment," Marth remarked coolly, crossing his legs and resting his hands behind his head.

The announcer was secretly frustrated. Marth just brushed off every insult. Then the announcer got an idea.

"Marth…is really a girl."

"What? I'm a boy, a prince! With tons of fangirls who wait outside for me as we speak."

"Fine then. Marth…HER real name is Princess Marshmallow Fluffernutter of the Dirty Rocks."

"Look, I'm a guy, okay? I'm the Prince of Altea, not whatever you speak of. Must you tell these lies?"

"Yes."

Marth was furious now. The announcer was amused.

"Mind if I ask why?" Marth asked through gritting teeth, getting more aggravated by the minute.

"It's in my job description. Getting on with that, Marth…he is a goody-goody two shoes who never gets into trouble," the announcer taunted.

"No, I get into trouble. Besides the ladies like a guy who is bad." Marth attempted to make a manly pose.

"Nice pose there," came a sarcastic response.

"Really?" inquired the hopeful male.

"No. Princess Marshmallow Fluffernutter of the Dirty Rocks …she picks her nose with a piece of black licorice every morning."

"That's disgusting! And how many times must I tell you, I'm not a girl!"

"That's what you want us to think."

The blue-haired swordsman just unhappily pouted.

"Now you know… Princess Marshmallow Fluffernutter of the Dirty Rocks, the nose picker that wishes to become an Oscar Meyer wiener."

The camera zoomed away from Marth. He made threats to come use his sword if the announcer did not show himself, along with comments on how none of that was true.

"I am not a girl! I don't pick my nose!" Marth yelled. Then he glanced at a security guard enjoying a doughnut.

"Ooh, doughnuts, my fave!" Marth tackled the guard, and they fought for the doughnut.

* * *

Next up is Ganondork, I mean Ganondorf. Heh. 


	5. Ganondorf

Here is chapter 5. I will take suggestions if you have any, so feel free to send some in. By a few requests, next will be Roy. And I own nothing.

* * *

Marth stepped away from the guard, triumphantly holding the sweet, chocolate glazed doughnut.

"Ha ha! I have succeeded!"

The guard tackled Marth and then punched him, so he fell to the ground, unconscious. Ganondorf walked in, raising an eyebrow at Marth.

He sat in the black chair, waiting for something to happen.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers."

Ganondorf yawned out of boredom.

"Ganondorf…he puts on Maybelline lip gloss on every day."

"I think you have me mistaken for Zelda or Roy."

"You think, or you know?" queried the announcer.

"I know."

"If you say so. Ganondorf…he has an irrational fright of ham."

"What? Why would I? You're crazy."

"No you are."

"I'll come use my warlock magic on you!"

"No you won't. I have a bucket of smoked ham."

"Argh! I do not fear meat!"

"Ganondorf…his name is actually Ganondwarf, but changed it because he was too embarrassed."

"No, my name was always Ganondorf. Where do you get these lies?" the confused warlock asked.

"Can't tell you. The sources are classified."

"I'll find them someday."

"You can't. It's guarded by a giant cube of ham."

"For the last time, I do not fear ham!"

"You're in denial."

"No I'm not!" protested Ganondorf.

"Ganondorf…he is the missing eighth dwarf from Snow White."

"What? I thought there were seven!"

"They made it with seven because, you, the eighth, ran away. In fact, Snow White called for you this morning so they could redo the movie with you in it."

Ganondorf screeched with rage. "I'm too tall to be one!"

"Whatever you say, missing, ham-fearing dwarf," the announcer said.

"Will you cut it out with the ham already!"

"No. Ganondorf…he was born on Saturn."

"How is that possible?"

"You tell me."

"I refuse to listen to these outrageous lies! I'm out of this place!"

"Now you know…Ganondwarf, the missing eighth dwarf who fears ham."

"No they don't I will find you! I don't fear meat! Stop these lies!" Ganondorf shouted as the cameraman zoomed away from the chair and Ganondorf. He stomped out of the building.

* * *

Next is Roy, then maybe Peach. This will be updated soon. 


	6. Roy

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me.

* * *

Roy strolled casually into the room. He would have been on top of a bunch of fangirls like Marth, or Princess Marshmallow Fluffernutter, but they were chased away. The room was a little too silent and dismal. Roy carefully found his way to the chair where he sat down.

The announcer began the routine. "Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers."

Roy yawned and put a hand to his mouth. Nothing interesting was happening yet.

"Roy…he showers in cranberry juice."

"No I don't," objected Roy. "I shower in water just like everyone else."

"Sure you do…and would you care to explain the fruity fragrance that has just filled up this room?"

"You just sprayed that! It's probably some perfume you stole from Peach or something."

"Right…Roy…he once went shopping with Zelda and Peach at Victoria's Secret."

"They made me do it! They said they would make me dress up in Nana's pink parka if I didn't."

"And you believed them? Or did you volunteer to go because you like to put the underwear on your head and dance around like a deranged monkey and drool?"

Roy didn't answer to that one. He was blushing a deep crimson. The announcer snickered with sheer pleasure.

"Oh, no comeback for that remark, huh? Pikachu was right, you do blush a deep shade of red."

"I do not! He's just a lying snitch anyways." Roy turned away from the camera and crossed his arms with rage.

"Roy…his favorite stage is Poke Floats," taunted the announcer.

"No, I hate Poke Floats! It's so annoying, having to move as the Pokemon disappear. You are just a fountain of lies!" Roy wailed.

"No, this is the truth. Just accept it, because you know it."

"Errr!"

"Oh, am I irritating you?"

"Yes," the blushing male admitted reluctantly.

"Good then. Roy…he does karaoke to Britney Spears songs when no one is watching."

"What? I can't stand her! I'd never do that. If anyone, it would be Captain Falcon."

"Sure, blame him."

"I'm serious! He has her CDs in his room."

"Roy…he tapes the Winx Club and then watches it every Sunday afternoon."

"WHAT?" he shrieked with fury. "That show is too girly. Why in the world would I like it?"

"Good question. Why don't you tell me?"

"That's it! I've had it."

"Which brings me to the next one. Roy…he explodes whenever he becomes too angry."

"I…do…not…" Roy murmured between clenched teeth. His face was puffing up and turning burgundy.

"3, 2, 1," counted down the announcer.

As if he was on cue, Roy's body puffed up like Kirby when he's floating and exploded. All that was left on the chair was a pile of what looked like melted vanilla ice cream, a pair of sweat-drenched clothes, and a sword.

The room was now vacant, but the announcer concluded anyway. "Now you know…Roy, the swordsman that showers in cranberry juice and likes Poke Floats."

The camera zoomed away from the chair and crickets chirped in the background.

* * *

I plan to do Peach's chapter next, and then Kirby's. Reviews are appreciated. 


	7. Peach

Disclaimer: Look to other chapters, since it doesn't change.

* * *

Peach was pacing about frantically in search of her cranberry fragrance. She had just bought it yesterday from a fancy French boutique. She happened to find a wide building and entered cautiously.

"Hello? Has anyone seen my bottle of perfume?" the princess pondered, squinting through the darkness. Nothing was in sight, except for a black chair. Peach approached it and noticed a pile of creamy liquid. She made a face and used her frying pan to scoop it away. The chair was clean enough after a couple of scoops, so the princess took her seat in case someone would just happen to come along with her perfume.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers," rumbled a voice.

"Oh, do you have my perfume? If so, please give it back to me."

"No. Peach…she hates wearing that ugly pink dress."

"No, I like my dress. The material is comfortable. It's pretty, not ugly like you think."

"Peach…her dress is made from spider webs."

"No it's not! It's made from…uhhh…I don't know what, but it's soft!"

"Sure…you love that soft feeling of spider webs wrapped around you."

"Not true. Eww!"

"Peach…she received her dress from a barbarian woman in a poodle skirt," mocked the announcer.

"No, I don't recall meeting a barbarian, or someone in a poodle skirt for that matter. This dress is from a very expensive department store. And why are you being so unkind about my attire?"

"How can you be so sure?" inquired the announcer, disregarding the question.

"…" Peach really didn't know how to answer that one, since she had received it as a Christmas gift one year.

"I thought so. Peach…she loves eating mud after it has rained and Yoshi has drooled in it."

"What? Now that is nasty. A princess would never do such a thing."

"You're no princess. Princess Marshmallow Fluffernutter is! And she is much better at her job than you."

Marth, also known as Princess Marshmallow Fluffernutter, appeared with a huge box of chocolate glazed doughnuts from a bakery. He bit greedily into one, savoring its luscious, rich taste.

"How many times must I tell you? I am a male. A prince. With fangirls," Marth stated, crumbs of the doughnut flying from his mouth as he finished it. Then after he was done speaking, he left the building via crowd of fangirls.

"Okay then, the author must be high on jelly beans again," commented the announcer.

"Okay fine, I was when I wrote this. Deal with it," a voice out of thin air roared. Then the story went back to normal.

"Peach…she is in love with a blueberry Eggo waffle."

"Now that is the last straw! I'm out of this place. But one question," Peach said.

"What is that?"

"Where is my cranberry perfume?"

"Uhh…Jigglypuff has it!"

"Ooh, I knew it! That dirty thief…she'll pay." Peach rose from the chair, curled her fingers firmly, andtrudged off.

"Now you know…Peach." The camera left the now empty chair in the shadows, leaving it to wait for its next victim.

* * *

Next is Kirby, then Pikachu. I'll try to update soon. 


	8. Kirby

Disclaimer: The characters of Super Smash Bros. Melee do not belong to me.

* * *

Kirby was sitting by the Fountain of Dreams. He yawned with boredom and stared at his reflection. Then Pichu ran in and gave Kirby a note saying to come to a building for free cupcakes. He was quite hungry, so he immediately dashed to the address scribbled on the scrap of paper. 

Around 10 minutes later

The petite pink puffball stood in front of the same building all of the previous smashers had entered just to be insulted. Kirby ran inside to find a fresh, hot chocolate cupcake smothered with vanilla frosting and rainbow sprinkles. He reached for it, peeled off the paper, and shoved it in his pie hole greedily. Then he spotted another cupcake on a chair. He scurried for the cupcake and picked it up. After he devoured the second, and sat and relaxed in the chair. You know what happens next.

"One day, in the city of Townsville…" said an unfamiliar announcer.

The cameraman scratched his head in confusion. "Uhh, are you in the right place?"

"Isn't this the Powerpuff Girls studio?"

"No, this is the Know Your Smashers studio."

"Oh. Sorry." Now the other announcer is gone, and the one we all know and love (or hate) is back, and ready to do what he was born to do: torture innocent people with random remarks.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers."

Kirby ignored the voice and brushed cupcake crumbs off of his mouth.

"Kirby…he eats fish paste for breakfast."

Kirby blinked.

"No comebacks, huh? Well then…Kirby…he is a large pink rock with black eyes."

Kirby chose to speak after this comment. "No, I am not a rock. And rocks don't have eyes. Where did that come from?"

"From your cupcake."

"That made no sense."

"I know," confessed the announcer.

Kirby made a look on his face that said 'How stupid can this guy get?'.

"Kirby…he writes sappy love poems about Jigglypuff."

"Just because we're both puffballs that can fly doesn't mean I like her!" he opposed.

"That's what they all say."

Kirby's face turned strawberry red with fury.

"Kirby…he once got beaten up by an electronic can opener."

"That's not even possible! How is telling you these lies?"

"Your mom."

Kirby grunted with frustration.

"Kirby…oh look, my shift is over. I have to end it now. Sooo…Now you know…Kirby, the pink puffball who gets beaten up by electric can openers."

The cameraman moved the camera steadily away from Kirby. Meanwhile, the puffball yelled back, even though no one listened.

"I'm not a rock! I don't love some Pokemon and a can opener never attacked me! Come back here, I'm not finished with you!"

Kirby stood there, but got hungry within a few minutes, so he went off to the local bakery for more cupcakes.

* * *

Next chapter the announcer shall wreak havoc on Pikachu, after that Falco. Now that this chapter is done, click on that button on the left and review so I'll update quicker. 


	9. Pikachu

It's Pikachu's turn. What will happen? Will he get a pastry? What will the announcer say? Why am I asking questions I know the answer to? Find out in this chapter.

* * *

Pikachu was getting beaten badly by Mewtwo in the Pokemon Stadium stage. Thankfully, for him anyway, Pichu came by a handed him a note telling him to go to a building because he had won a million dollars. The poor Pokemon ran off. Mewtwo shrugged and started to fight Pichu.

Around 10 minutes later, Pikachu was in the ever-famous Know Your Smashers studio. He walked to the chair where he sat down and patiently waited for his prize money.

Unexpectedly, a million dollar bills dropped from the ceiling. Pikachu happily clapped and rolled around in the money. Just then, Mario, Link, Ness, Marth, Ganondorf, Peach, and Kirby formed a circle around him, their eyes like sharp daggers, staring at him. Roy somehow was revived and stood between Ganondorf and Peach.

Pikachu sweat dropped. "Pika?"

"You snitched on some of us…" mumbled Link.

"And YOU of anyone gets money?" added Roy.

"Yes," came a familiar voice. It was the announcer. "He deserves it, after all of that information he gave me."

"A Pokemon gave you information that isn't even true?"

"Maybe not to you, but to us, it is real. I just decided to reward him. He's not my only source, though."

"Payback time!" screeched Peach. Everyone leaned in to attack him.

"No! My source of information."

"Torture him," commanded Ness. "Or we'll hurt him."

"Can't. It's my lunchtime. Bye!"

"Fine then, we'll torture him," said Mario with an evil grin.

"I'll start," said Roy. "Pikachu…his favorite cheese is gorgonzola."

"Pika pika pi pikachu!" Pikachu cried.

"Huh?" asked Ganondorf in confusion.

"Have no fear, I have the Poketranslater!" Marth held up a small electronic device. "It allows us to communicate with Pokemon. It translates their language to English so we can understand them." He put the device up to Pikachu's mouth as he repeated what he said.

"No, that cheese is nasty. It made me gag one time."

"Pikachu…" said Ganondorf. "He has a fake tail that he super glued there."

"It's real!" Pikachu pulled on his tail to demonstrate that it was real.

"How do we know if it is or not? It might be really strong glue."

Pikachu just crossed his arms.

"Pikachu…he flunked kindergarten and went back to preschool," Kirby declared.

"Nuh huh! Pokemon don't even go to school! And I'm definitely smarter than you anyways."

Kirby looked angry. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"OH YEAH?"

"YEAH!"

"Enough!" squeaked Peach, covering her ears. "I think we all know Kirby is smarter." Everyone but the yellow Pokemon nodded.

"Hey! Not fair!" said Pikachu.

"Indeed it is fair," disagreed Link. "Pikachu…his mother was a light bulb."

"What? No! My mother was a cute Pikachu, just like me!" He tried to smile and pose like an angel. The smashers just grunted.

"Pikachu…he eats cardboard with strawberry sauce drizzled over it," commented Mario.

"Eww! I don't even like touching cardboard."

Mario grinned and in his hand appeared a piece of flat cardboard. He poked Pikachu with it as he screamed with pain. That made everyone laugh.

"Pikachu…" started Marth. "He does the hula with Captain Falcon."

"No I don't! I don't even have one of those green skirts."

"Then how come I found one of them in your room?"

Pikachu turned away and hid his face with his tiny paws.

"Oh, so you do?"

"No."

"He's lying!" shrieked Link.

It was Ness's turn. "Pikachu…he drools a gallon each time he sleeps."

"No I don't! I don't even drool at all! You guys are mean."

"We know," said Ganondorf.

Peach finished up with, "Pikachu…HE is the one who stole my cranberry perfume and gave it to the announcer guy!"

"How did you- I mean, of course not, Princess! Who told you that?"

"Jigglypuff," she said. "She told me you snuck into my room when I went shopping with Zelda and Roy!"

Pikachu laughed. "Roy went shopping with the princesses?"

Roy lightly reddened and yelled, "They forced me to!"

"Sure…I swear, Peach. He made me do-"

"Silence, you! I'm going to get you, you dirty little rat!" Peach got out her tennis racket and chased Pikachu around madly. Marth stuffed his Poketranslater away in a pocket where he kept doughnuts. They ran off some place where the other smashers couldn't see the action. There was a sound of footsteps, cries of Pikachu, and eventually, a loud, echoing sound, like Peach's tennis racket hit something.

She came from around a corner. "He shouldn't be bothering us for awhile."

The others clapped and the princess bowed gracefully. Then they rushed to pick up as much money as they could.

Kirby and Marth were gathering money together. Soon they had as much as they needed, and decided to go buy the local bakery as Marth pigged out on his precious doughnuts and Kirby munched on cupcakes. They ran off as Mario, Link, Ness, Ganondorf, Roy, and Peach cleaned the money from the floor and ran off.

The studio was empty. The chair was hidden in shadows, once again waiting for someone to come along and sit.

* * *

Whew, that was long. Next, I'll do Falco, then Bowser. 


	10. Falco

Disclaimer: I'll say this quick, since no one cares, but I own nothing!

* * *

Falco was winning in a battle against Luigi. Across the field he spotted a Warp Star. Eagerly, he ran to it, hopped on, and soared through the air. Luigi ran awayin fear of being knocked out. Unluckily for Falco, a bomb appeared where he landed. He lost a life and went into the sky and disappeared like a star you sometimes see in anime. But instead of coming back to the battlefield, Falco continued to drop until he finally hit a tree with an enormous trunk.

"Ow," he moaned as he fell through the sky at a high speed.

After awhile, Falco landed in front of a studio. He grabbed onto the door handle as he stood up and brushed the leaves and dust off of himself. The door swung open and the bird entered.

His legs were a bit wobbly from that long fall, making it hard for him to stand up straight. He limped his way to a black chair. The announcer was back from lunch and eager to taunt this newcomer.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers."

Falco's eyes shifted from side to side, as if trying to find the announcer.

"Falco…he is truly a bird brain."

"No I'm not," he answered. "I am smarter than the average bird."

"Oh, so just because you can talk, you think you can be mean to those cute little birdies?"

Falco got a look of puzzlement on his face, as did the cameraman.

"Erm, enough of that. Falco…he chews on Mario's hat when no one watches."

"Wouldn't that taste gross?"

"You would have to tell me. You know."

"No I don't!"

"Does it taste like chicken?"

Falco's blood boiled from these annoying comments. Worst of all, they weren't even true.

"Falco," the announcer paused, as if waiting for a random insult to pop up. "He stole that jacket."

"I did not! I bought this myself! Why would you accuse me of that?"

"Because you did. Do you even have the receipt?" queried the announcer.

"Not with me right now, but-"

"Silence! You stole it then!"

"Did not! What do you expect, me to carry it around with me all the time just to prove I actually bought it?"

"Yes."

"You make no sense!"

"I do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"...Do too."

"Be quiet already!" an irritated Falco screeched.

"Nope. I must talk to get paid."

"You get paid!" he asked in astonishment.

"Yes. Why wouldn't I?"

No answer from Falco.

"Falco…he square-dances with Zelda and Yoshi."

"Square-dancing? What's that?"

"A dance you do with Zelda and Yoshi."

"I don't even know what it is."

"Right…" muttered the announcer monotonously.

"It's true!"

"Falco…he stuffs rotten cheeseburgers in that jacket he stole."

"How many times must I tell you, I did not steal this jacket! It was bought! And cheeseburgers are too greasy. Even if I did eat them and stuff them in my jacket, it would be ruined!"

"You're talking, but you're not saying anything. Falco…he is about to leave..."

"For once you're actually correct!" Falco stood up from the chair and wobbled to the door. "I'm surprised at that, considering almost every word you say is a LIE!"

"…To steal more cheeseburgers."

"I don't steal cheeseburgers! Why would I? They're nasty!"

"Now you know…Falco, the square-dancing, bird brained, cheeseburger and jacket thief."

"Are you ever not talking or lying? Or both? I'm sick of you! I'm going to get something to eat because I'm hungry!" he declared.

"Okay. Bye. And make sure to really buy your cheeseburger."

"I am not getting a cheeseburger! I'm getting a hot dog, then maybe a cinnamon roll at the bakery. I've had enough." With that, Falco slammed the door behind him.

"I wonder where the rest of my pork loaf went," commented the announcer to no one in particular.

* * *

There is chapter 10. Next I shall make a chapter for Bowser, and then Zelda. Expect an update soon! 


	11. Bowser

Here's chapter 11! Starring Bowser! And I have over 3000 hits, so I will celebrate by giving out jellybeans and Oreos. Anyone who reviews gets them!

Disclaimer: If I owned SSBM, I would be happy and do the Numa Numa Dance!

* * *

Bowser was hungry, so he took a walk to the bakery for a box of bagels. When he opened the door, it wasn't in the condition he expected it to be.

Kirby was lying on a table. He was the size of a computer monitor, his stomach entirely filled with cupcakes. Marth's face was coated in doughnut crumbs. Bowser roared at Marth and Kirby. They knew he wanted his daily bagels.

"Umm…" Marth hesitated before saying something. He glanced at a bottle with a label that read 'Special McNarfian Apple Juice'. He grabbed it and ran up to Bowser. Apple juice poured into Bowser's mouth until it was gone. Bowser gagged.

"Get me mybagels or else!" he growled.

Marth's jaw dropped in amazement. That apple juice gave him the ability to speak!

"Okay," he said, rushing off to another room. He came out and brought with him a box of fresh blueberry bagels. Bowser snatched them greedily and stomped off.

Kirby waddled to the bathroom. Marth heard many flushes before Kirby came out. He was normal size now. Marth shrugged and shoved a strawberry jelly doughnut in his mouth.

Bowser came across the Know Your Smashers studio. His curiosity caused him to walk in. There was a single chair alone on a stage, so he took a seat. It was odd that a chair that small could hold his weight.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers," bellowed a voice.

Bowser carefully opened his cardboard box that contained the bagels and bit into one.

"Bowser…he wears mahogany eye shadow every day in April."

"Eye shadow? Never heard of it."

"You can talk?"

"Stupid blue-haired kid gave me some magical apple juice."

"Oh…Boswer…he only breathes fire because he tapes lighted matches to his mouth."

"No, I don't. I have always been able to breathe fire."

"Yeah right."

"Want me to burn your camera."

"I don't care. It's the special edition fireproof," said the announcer with pride.

Bowser grimaced with disappointment and stuffed three bagels into his mouth.

"Bowser…his shell is actually made of plastic."

"No it's not!" he angrily shot back. "It's real! If it was plastic, it would melt every time I got near something hot in a battle."

"Maybe your shell is hard fireproof plastic."

"There's no such thing!"

"Yes there is."

"Where?"

"In that box of blueberry bagels."

"That made no sense," sneered Bowser.

"Who cares? As long as I get paid."

"Bowser…he chugs two gallons of motor oil before a fight."

"Where in Mushroom Kingdom do you get these lies? That would make me sick!"

"From your grandma."

"Bowser…can I have a picture of Mario when he got burned?"

"No," he said, finishing his box of bagels. "I'm going to get more bagels. You're just a liar."

"No! Come back! I must have a picture of Mario! Oh, forget you then. Now you know…Bowser, the plastic-shelled, eye shadow-wearing oil chugger."

Bowser had already left for the bakery.

* * *

Next chapter: Zelda. Chapter after that: Jigglypuff. 


	12. Zelda

Chapter 12, featuring the princess who is too peaceful and gets on everyone's nerves because without violence video games as we know it would be boring. Zelda! And now I shall make it rain the sugary treats I promised. On with the chapter! Oh wait, there's that annoying disclaimer.

Nothing belongs to me! Except for this candy bar that is next to me as I type…Oh, and the insane cameraman, who is making his debut. Why now? Who knows…

* * *

Zelda was square-dancing with Yoshi when Young Link came in and handed Zelda a note that told her to come to the Know Your Smashers Studio to claim her free coupon for makeup that would last a year.

"Why didn't Pichu deliver this?" the princess asked.

"He is in the hospital because Mewtwo fried him with a Fire Flower," he answered.

"Oh." Apparently our Hylian princess doesn't care about the little electric, suicidal rat, and I don't either, so let's go to the part where she finds the studio and gets insulted.

"Now where is that coupon? I am nothing without my daily allowance of makeup!" Zelda thought aloud. Then she spotted the chair in the distance and thought that if she sat there, the coupon would be delivered to her.

Zelda took a seat in the chair. Then the stage went from dreary and shadowy to vivid and bright. She scanned the room anxiously and spotted a sparkling camera lens and some guy sitting behind it. It was hard to see him due to poor lighting, but he appeared to be wearing a loose navy janitor's suit and tacky, dusty shoes. His hazel eyes flashed with childish innocence, the kind a five-year-old had. He hummed while playing with an old banana peel.

"Who are you?" the Hylian princess questioned.

"Huh? I'm the cameraman. I was recently hired to…uh…uhh…I forgot," the mindless man replied.

"Operate the camera!" barked the aggravated announcer. "Anyway, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers…"

"Oh, hi there!" screeched Zelda in an annoying, high voice, completely forgetting about the oblivious cameraman. "Do you happen to have my coupon for my makeup?"

"No, I have something even better."

"What's that?"

"Random insults to get on your nerves! Starting with…Zelda…she uses lemonade to keep her hair yellow."

"That's absurd! A princess does not fiddle with her hair in such an un-lady-like manner! Besides, I don't even think lemonade can do that." She crossed one leg over the other and crossed her arms.

"Ah, but it can."

"How would you know?" she scorned.

"I know everything. Fear me!"

Zelda rolled her eyes.

"Zelda…her hairspray smells like rotten eggs mixed with toilet water."

"That's a big lie! My hairspray is lemon fresh." Zelda haughtily ran her fingers through her golden locks. "And how can something smell like toilet water?"

"It just can."

"Whatever. And why do you keep saying things about my hair? You did the same thing to my Linkie boy as well."

"Linkie boy?" the announcer asked, trying to hide his snickering.

"Yes, my nickname for Link."

The cameraman and the announcer cracked up.

"Be quiet!" Zelda ordered, waving her hand at the camera.

"Who's gonna make me? Zelda…she has a crush on Ganondorf."

Before she could object, the warlock ran on stage. "Really, Zelda? Oh, I'm so happy! We can get married and rule Hyrule together! Then we-"

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Get out of here! I could never like you, and the announcer is just some rude person with no life."

Ganondorf walked away hopelessly, muttering something about buying some chocolate.

"Okay…" whispered the cameraman to himself.

"Zelda…her singing is so bad that all glass around her breaks when she tries."

"My singing is actually good, believe it or not!" snapped Zelda, now officially annoyed.

"I choose not to believe it."

Zelda's cheeks were flushed with anger.

"Zelda…she learned her tricks from a cheap magician."

"What! That is the most unbelievable thing I have heard of!"

"You just can't admit the truth."

"That's a lieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" The princess shrieked so loudly, the camera's lens cracked.

"Great, now I have to go shopping for a new camera," complained the cameraman. "Thanks a lot Blondie."

Zelda transformed into Sheik and got some needles ready. She chased the cameraman out of the building as he cried like a young girl.

The announcer was left alone, but concluded anyway. "Now you know…Zelda, the glass-breaker who has a crush on Ganondorf."

* * *

Next I'll make Jigglypuff a chapter and then maybe Fox. So how was the cameraman?

Cameraman: Rainbows are pretty.

Random person: Stupid, of course...

There you have it. The cameraman is a moron.

Cameraman: YAY!


	13. Jigglypuff

Jigglypuff! I have nothing else important to say, so here's the chapter. And now, for the best part of the chapter, the disclaimer!

Disclaimer: I own squat. The SSBM characters are not squat, so therefore, the SSBM characters are not mine. Yay.

And now, the chapter!

* * *

Before you get to see Jigglypuff, you will get to see the cameraman shop in a cheap,unknown store for a new camera. 

The cameraman examined the poorly built cameras, trying to decide which to buy. He came across a shiny hot pink one that caught his eye.

He frantically raced up to the gorgeous camera and gently picked it up with his left hand. The camera gleamed in the poor light of the store. It wasn't the best camera, but it was within his budget. Then again, considering how cheap and low budget the whole store is, he could buy any camera, but this one was special. Only because it was shiny and hot pink.

"It's even citrus scented!" he squealed with delight as he got a quick sniff of the camera's lens. This would definitely be the one he would buy.

While stroking the camera in his hands, the cameraman raced up to the cash register. He glanced at his watch and knew he would soon have to return to the studio; otherwise the announcer could fire him. Unluckily for him, the person at the cash register was surely a candidate for slowest employee ever hired on the planet. There was an unbelievably long line that looked like it stretched for miles. He groaned and dragged his feet to the end of the line. At least the beautiful camera would distract him...or maybe not.

Five and a half hours later

The line had only shortened by about six people. The people in front of the cameraman were yelling at the incredibly slow employee, trying to make her hurry up.

"What's taking so long?" asked one man. "I have kids to feed!"

Another shouted, "Who would ever hire you anyway?"

"No one else wanted to work here, and I got fired from 37 different fast food chains only because I take 13 hours to make a strawberry milkshake. So I was hired here!"the employee reported with pride.

That only made the line of customers complain even more. The cameraman was convinced his career as cameraman for Know Your Smashers was over. Eventually, he got fed up and ran away with the camera he loved. When he was about halfway to the studio, he heard a siren wail behind him.

He gulped with fear. Just when he was sure everything would be fine, the police showed up. Lucky for him, he saw a Warp Star standing in front of him.

"Oh, goody! I love these things," screamed the cameraman, giddy and nervous all at once. He hopped on and sailed away into the distance, shrieking with pleasure.

* * *

Jigglypuff had nothing to do, so she was wandering aimlessly around the planet. She eventually rolled through the door of the beloved Know Your Smashers studio and somehow landed on the chair. 

The stage was concealed in shadows. The silence started to scare Jigglypuff, she she hummed to help comfort herself.

Suddenly, the cameraman crashed through the roof of the studio. He set up the camera in front of the chair as Jigglypuff tried to figure out what was going on.

"Where in the world have you been?" roared the angry announcer.

"Sorry…I tried to get here sooner, but I went to a tacky camera store and the employee was slower than slow," explained the cameraman, hoping he wouldn't lose his job.

"Oh, THAT place…I bought a camera from that store once too. In that case, you're off the hook, but next time, go to a better store."

"Thank you!" said the cameraman gratefully.

"Now, let's get the show on the road."

Jigglypuff blinked. "Jiggly?"

"Ahem, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers."

"Jigg jigg jiggly?" wondered the round, pink Pokemon.

"Jigglypuff…her real name is Jiggly Cream Puff," the announcer proclaimed.

Jigglypuff crossed her tiny arms and pouted.

"Ha ha. Jiggly Cream Puff…she rinses her mouth with pulpy orange juice after each meal."

Jigglypuff inhaled and her body expanded. She didn't want to say anything since they wouldn't understand her.

"Jiggly Cream Puff…she is married to a soda can."

Jigglypuff inhaled more air. She looked as if she would explode any second.

"Hey, if she married a soda can, how come we weren't invited to the wedding?" the cameraman queried.

"Yeah, how come?" the announcer asked Jigglypuff.

No answer.

"Fine, be that way! Jiggly Cream Puff…she is a clone of Kirby in an ugly costume."

This one really annoyed Jigglypuff . She exhaled with frustration and pulled out her microphone from a non-existant pocket.

"Oh shoot," the cameraman said through clenched teeth. He knew what would happen next, and there was nothing he or the announcer could do about it.

"Jig jigglypuff,jiggly..." The Pokemon danced on the chair as she serenaded them with her soothing song.

"Now you know…Jiggly Cream Puff…the…the ugly Kirby clone who married a…zzzzzz…" the announcer couldn't finished because before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.So had the cameraman.

"Jiggly!" she shouted with pride as she stood on the chair. Then she left a doodle on the cameraman's face with her marker and ran off into the distance to wander some more.

* * *

I know that probably wasn't as funny as the other chapters, but writing chapters with Pokemon isn't exactly easy…Oh well. Like I said, next is Fox, then Captain Falcon. 


	14. Fox

Sorry for not updating for a while.Here's Fox's chapter. And I own squat, as usual.

* * *

Fox was somehow magically transported to the Know Your Smashers Studio. He was a little dizzy, so he kept walking in circles until he fell into the chair on the stage. 

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers," screeched the announcer in a happy-go-lucky voice.

"Who was that?" Fox asked immediately after the announcer's introduction, sounding quite paranoid. "I'll use my gun if I must!"

"That really scares me. The thought of getting shot by a hairy rodent. Oh, the humanity! Spare me!"

"I'm not a rodent!"

"Who cares," moaned the announcer. "Fox…he is secretly a Girl Scout."

"What? That's preposterous. I'm not even female. Tell me, how is that possible?" Fox inquired, curious and irritated at the same time.

"Maybe you have a female disguise."

Fox gave the camera an evil glare. The cameraman feared this and started to whistle innocently.

"Fox…he is a crybaby who sleeps with a magenta elephant plush toy."

"Who told you about the plush toy?" Fox snapped with embarrassment. After saying that, he realized he confirmed the announcer's comment. "I mean that's a lie!"

The announcer snickered mockingly while the cameraman attempted to contain his laughter, but failed. Fox shot him another evil glare and the cameraman turned away in fear.

"Fox…his fur is glued in place."

"That's not true!" Fox snapped. He pulled on the fur on his head to prove it. "See?"

"For all I know, that could be strong super glue."

"It's not! Stop lying and assuming untrue things!"

"Not if my life depended on it."

If it were possible, steam would have risen from his ears. The cameraman actually contained his laughter…Actually, he didn't. He chuckled for about two seconds and luckily got away with it.

"Fox…his dream is to someday star on Sesame Street."

"I think that was Young Link…" he muttered thoughtfully.

Suddenly, a familiar sword slashed through the studio's doors. Young Link stomped in and tried to slice Fox with his sword. He used his hands to defend himself, even though it was a bit tricky to not cut his hands on the sword's sharp edges.

"How dare you tell the world my secret!" shrieked Young Link with rage.

Fox stammered in response, "Y-Young Link, I-I-I can ex-explain.."

"You have 7 seconds!"

Fox ran out of the studio as fast as he could as Young Link scurried after him, shouting threats and pulling up his belt when it was slipping.

"Now you know…Fox, the Girl Scout who sleeps with his magenta elephant plush toy."

The camera zoomed away from the chair as crickets chirped in the background.

* * *

Okay, that was short, but I have a case of writer's block, and the evil writer's block is causing me to run out of ideas. Next will be Captain Falcon, then Luigi. 


	15. Captain Falcon

Here is Captain Falcon's chapter. If you have ideas for how to torture the characters, you're welcome to send them with your review, but just keep in mind the rating of this story. I'm not going to raise this story's rating just because of a comment that's not appropriate for a K plus story.

Now that I've said that, the disclaimer.

Disclaimer: Absolutely none of the characters belong to me!

There, the end of my babbling and the beginning of the chapter.

* * *

Captain Falcon was racing Falco since he had nothing else to do. Suddenly, Pichu rolled by in a wheelchair and handed Captain Falcon a note saying that Samus was waiting for him at an unfamiliar address. His hopes rose as he ran as fast as he could to the Know Your Smashers studio. 

He walked in and searched for Samus. "Hello? Samus?" Captain Falcon asked as he wandered through the dreary studio. None of the lights were on, so he couldn't see a thing. Eventually he tripped over the legs of the chair on the stage. The lights immediately flashed on and the laughter of the announcer and the cameraman echoed through the studio.

"Hey! Samus isn't here!" he growled as he stood up and put the chair back in its correct position. He sat down and grumbled something about hurting his ankle.

"Well, aren't you a smart one?" mocked the cameraman sarcastically. "…Not! I've seen zucchini smarter than you! And zucchini aren't eve-"

"Shut up cameraman!" snapped an annoyed announcer. "Let me do my job. Ahem, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers."

"Where am I?" Captain Falcon pondered aloud.

"You'll find out soon enough," the announcer informed him. "Captain Falcon…he is overly obsessed with cheesecake."

"Cheesecake? It's okay on occasion, but I don't eat it that often. What kind of idiot is overly obsessed with a food?"

"An insanely idiotic idiot," the announcer answered in a bored tone.

"Like you," finished the cameraman.

Captain Falcon didn't have an answer to that.

"Captain Falcon…he takes bubble baths with a rubber duck named Pookie."

"When I was five, yes, but I lost poor old Pookie…why am I telling you this?"

"Because you're an idiot. Nothing else can answer that."

Captain Falcon grunted as his face turned a light shade of red. The bright light would probably blind him sometime soon, so took out a pair of sunglasses that popped out of thin air and he put them on.

_I wish I could do that,_ thought the cameraman.

"Captain Falcon…he has a secret Donkey Kong worship shrine in his room."

"That has got to be the worst insult yet," he snapped back, blushing a little harder. "Why would someone worship Donkey Kong?"

"Why would someone not?" wondered the cameraman. He pulled off his sweatshirt to reveal an auburn T-shirt with a picture of Donkey Kong on it. "I'm his biggest fan!"

Crickets chirped in the background while the announcer and Captain Falcon just wondered about the deranged cameraman.

"Okay…" murmured the announcer. "Captain Falcon…his muscles are part of his costume."

"No they're not! See?" He raised his arms and showed off his arms vainly while he flashed a cheesy grin.

"Yeah right, they're probably fake," the cameraman replied dully.

"They are real! I promise! Why does no one believe me?"

"We believe you…" said the announcer.

"Really?"

"…If you can lift this." The announcer pulled a lever, which made a 300-pound sphere drop from the ceiling. Captain Falcon shut his eyes and held his arms out, prepared to either foolishly injure himself or prove the cameraman and the announcer wrong.

Sadly, for him, the first one happened.

The heavy sphere weighed his body down to the ground and landed swiftly on his stomach. The cameraman laughed so hard, he almost choked.

"Someone…call an ambulance," Captain Falcon managed to say almost breathlessly before going unconscious.

An ambulance magicallyparked by the studio and two nurses came in with a stretcher. They hoisted the unconscious male onto the stretcher and took him away to a hospital.

The studio was quiet for a while as the cricket's chirping resumed.

Then the announcer concluded, "Now you know…Captain Falcon, the cheesecake-loving idiot with fake muscles and a Donkey Kong worship shrine."

"Hey, I'm the one with the worship shrine! I AM Donkey Kong's #1 fan! Someday I will meet him!" shouted the determined cameraman crazily.

The announcer sighed. "I don't get paid enough to have to work with him."

* * *

There, it's longer than the last one. Next I'll do Luigi's chapter, then…whoever is first requested by a reviewer. 


	16. Luigi

I'm not going to bother explaining anything so people won't get confused. Just at least send a comment or something as well as whom you want to see next, if you like. So after this is DK (shouts from the cameraman are heard…until a brownie hits him and knocks him out), then Mr. Game and Watch. Once again, no accent. Pretend it's there.

Disclaimer: I don't own Luigi or any other characters. I do, however, own the cameraman.

"No way!" yelled the cameraman. "Donkey Kong owns me!"

"But I created you. Weren't you knocked out?"

"I got up. I am still owned by Donkey Kong! Start the story!"

"Okay, okay…"

* * *

Luigi was hungry and looking for a place to eat lunch. Just when he was going to give up hope and return to the Smasher Mansion to eat a leftover plate of meatloaf, he came across the Know Your Smashers studio and thought it was a five-star restaurant.

Luigi eagerly ran to the door and pulled off a flyer from the door. It said that inside was an Italian all-you-can-eat buffet. He put a hand in his pocket and hoped there was some money, but all he pulled out was a ball of lint and a piece of gum that had already been chewed. Much to Luigi's fortune, a small note in fine print read, 'Smashers eat free!'. He dashed inside.

As soon as he entered, Luigi searched for the buffet. All he found was a tall black chair in the center of a stage. He thought that maybe if he sat down in it, the buffet would appear. He scurried to the chair and climbed up. He sat down, waiting to see what would happen next.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers," thundered a voice.

Luigi just daydreamed about spaghetti.

"Luigi…he is a clone of Mario is a green outfit."

"No I'm not! Mario has no clones. At least not that I know of…"

"Then how can you be sure?" inquired the cameraman.

"Err…I can't."

"Ha ha! We're right," sneered the announcer.

Luigi fiddled with a loose thread that hung off of his shirtsleeve. He didn't have a comeback.

"Luigi…there's a ghost behind him."

"What!" Mario's brother bawled. He felled out of the chair, but since his foot got stuck somehow, the chair came down too. His eyes shifted as he scanned the room for any ghosts. "I don't see any ghosts!"

"Gotcha."

Luigi scowled and put the chair back up and sat down in it.

"Luigi…he turns green whenever he sees Peach."

"Are you saying I'm Mario again?"

"Yes."

Luigi's face turned red like a ripe tomato, looking like he would explode any second. The cameraman wanted burst out laughing and point cruelly. He did.

"Cameraman!" shot the announcer. "Shut up or you're fired!"

"No! I need money! Please don't fire me!" pleaded the cameraman in desperation.

"For what? You have a wife and kids?"

"No. I need the money to add to my collection of special edition Donkey Kong plush toys! My Donkey Kong worship shrine won't be complete without them!"

"Then let me do my job. Luigi…he tried to give CPR to a Mr. Saturn once."

"That wasn't me! It might have been DK…It was someone, just not me."

"What?" shrieked the enraged cameraman. "How dare ye insult thy great Donkey Kong!"

"Why are you talking like that?" asked Luigi.

"You shouldn't care about that now. Care about yourself." The cameraman pulled out a baseball bat from some unknown place and let out a battle cry as he charged after Luigi. He jumped out of the chair and ran out the door.

Luigi curiously pondered, "Does this mean I don't get a cannoli?"

"What do you think?" A few crashing and slamming noises are heard as Luigi screamed for mercy.

So now the announcer was alone in the studio. The announcer finished anyway, as always.

"Now you know…Luigi, the clone of Mario who gives CPR to Mr. Saturns."

* * *

Since I already mentioned who comes next, I'll just ask for you to review. 


	17. Donkey Kong

Oh goodie, it's DK's chapter! Of course, the cameraman is excited, but how far will his obsession go? Find out in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own the SSBM characters. I may own myself, but I think a kumquat minion of mine thinks otherwise…

* * *

So far in the Know Your Smashers studio, it was pretty dull. No one was going to arrive anytime soon, at least the announcer and the cameraman were convinced. Crickets were chirping for about an hour, but then left since their shifts were over.

The announcer was daydreaming of insulting every last Super Smash Brothers Melee character, then ordering the cameraman to make DVDs of them and sell them for the world to laugh at and enjoy. Then the announcer imagined becoming rich and buying a mansion with a hot tub.

The cameraman was daydreaming about DK and finally meeting him up close. He would bow down in front of him and worship the ground he walked on. They would go to ice cream shops and eat dozens of banana splits. Then they could pilfer Peach's bra, put it on, and then run around like maniacs. The cameraman drooled and grinned like a moron.

"Cameraman?" asked the announcer, making sure his employee hadn't fallen asleep with his eyes open.

A huge puddle of the cameraman's saliva was on the ground. His old leather shoes were drenched in it.

"Cameraman!" the announcer snapped sternly.

The cameraman returned from his fantasy and was now back in reality.

"Eww, what's that smell?" questioned the announcer, sounding disgusted.

"Oh, I think that's my drool. I'll just spray my banana air freshener." The cameraman pulled out a bottle, shook it up and down several times, and then pressed the lever to release the banana goodness.

Donkey Kong, who was trying to set a new record in the Homerun Contest, somehow smelled the banana air freshener and ran as quickly as he could to it.

"That's enough cameraman! I think I will die from the fumes!" the announcer screeched after the cameraman had sprayed the air freshener for 8 minutes straight. He shrugged and tucked his precious bottle away into a safe place.

Just then, Donkey Kong came bursting through the doors.

(A/N: Worshipping DK fanboy craziness begins…now.)

The cameraman gasped with excitement, then screamed as loud as he possibly could.

"Wooooooooooooooooooooooot!"

The cameraman pulled off his sweatshirt to reveal his "DK's #1 fan" T-shirt. " I love you DK! I'm your biggest fan!" He couldn't believe the very one who he worshipped was standing right in front of him. He just HAD to get DK's autograph, eben if it was the last thing he did.

The cameraman dashed up to Donkey Kong with a sheet of paper and a furry Donkey Kong collector's pen. "May I have your autograph Mr. Kong?"

Suddenly, a board fell from the ceiling and knocked out the cameraman. Donkey Kong scratched his head in confusion.

"You'll thank me for that later," the announcer reassured him. DK just shrugged and took a seat in the chair.

"Ahem, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers."

DK stared at the ceiling aimlessly.

"Donkey Kong…his mother was an ape and his father was a donkey."

"That's not true!" came the cameraman's voice from under the board.

"Didn't I knock you out?"

"I'm back up! Don't you dare insult my idol."

The announcer didn't know what to say…

"Donkey Kong…he hee-haws every time he hears a joke."

"Stop with the stupid donkey jokes!" snapped an angry cameraman, still on the floor. Donkey Kong didn't even know he was getting insulted. He began to stare at the camera and drool.

"Donkey Kong…he steals bananas from grocery stores."

"Once again, not true! DK only buys the best organic bananas from Africa."

The announcer sighed. The cameraman sounded angry. Donkey Kong drooled with a clueless expression some more.

"Donkey Kong…he is Diddy Kong in a bigger suit."

"That's it! No more Mr. Nice Cameraman! Don't make me sing the DK rap then blast you with my powerful bananas with magical powers!" The cameraman stood up and attempted to make a heroic pose, but he just looked plain corny.

"Oh yeah, I'm afraid now," the announcer said sarcastically.

"You should be! Humph."

"Fine then, whatever…Donkey Kong…he raids Peach's closet and steals her bra on Saturdays."

"Really?" the worshipping fan asked his idol.

DK nodded vigorously.

"Today's Saturday! Let's go DK!" He grabbed the ape's arm and ran with him out of the studio and to Peach's room in the Smasher mansion. "And, on the way back, let's share a giant banana split!" DK's squeals ofhappiness were heard and the two of they shrieked joyously while running off.

The announcer was all alone, and no crickets could chirp to break the awkward silence.

"Now you know…Donkey Kong, the panty pilferer who hee-haws at jokes," completed the announcer. Hopefully the cameraman would return soon so they could insult the next victim without worrying about one of them worshipping the victim.

* * *

Next is Mewtwo, then Mr. Game and Watch. Please review! Thanks. 


	18. Mewtwo

I haven't updated for a while due to evil school, but here it is! Here is Mewtwo's chapter! As reviewers mentioned, he'll be hard to crack, but little do we know about his (secret censored).

Disclaimer: I don't own SSBM. Don't rub it in.

* * *

Mewtwo was battling in Green Greens, and the giant tree was starting to blow harshly. The Pokemon grabbed an edge, but was blown away to the studio.

"Whee! I'm a birdie!" squealed Mewtwo as he glided through the air.

Then he gradually descended and flew right through the doors of a certain studio and landed in a chair.

"Ow,"he mumbledas he massaged the side of his head.

"Aw, did that hurt you?" the announcer questioned, pretending to care.

He just scowled. "How did I get here? Did you plan this?"

"Yes, because I am evil! Muahahahaha!" Mewtwo rolled his eyes at the pathetic announcer. "Where's the cameraman?"

Meanwhile, in Peach's room

"Aaaah! My underwear! That cost me $147!" screamed Peach as she opened a closet only to find her expensive undergarments were gone.

At some ice cream parlor

The cameraman had a pair of sparkly pink underwear he snagged from Peach on his head while Donkey Kong wore her pretty maroon bra. They grinned with satisfaction as they shared a huge banana split that was almost as tall as the ceiling.

The cameraman pushed his sleeve up and checked his watch. His eyes widened frantically. "Oh no! I have to get back to work!" Donkey Kong raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry Mr. Kong, I have to go. Otherwise I can't buy your special edition lemon scented pen I saw on E-Bay." DK nodded vigorously, showing he understood. The cameraman thanked him, got his autograph and ran back to the studio, shrieking so loud there were cracks in the glass window of the parlor.

The cameraman dashed in and stood by the camera as the announcer began.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers…"

Mewtwo thought about buying a cheesecake.

"Mewtwo…he sings in the shower."

"Untrue. I dislike singing. And what's a shower?"

The cameraman gave Mewtwo a glare that said 'What is wrong with you?'

"Erm…Mewtwo…he is Darth Vader in disguise."

"Who's this Darth Vader you speak of? I am Mewtwo," the Pokemon answered calmly. The fact Mewtwo wasn't annoyed yet really ticked off the announcer. As for the cameraman, he was whistling softly with his hands in his pocket.

"Mewtwo…he was caught hitting on Sango last week," bellowed the announcer.

Miroku suddenly appeared throught the doors and ran on stage. He gave Mewtwo an evil stare. Mewtwo yawned and eyed the human. Obviously this was boring him.

"How dare you hit on my precious Sango! WIND TUNNEL!" Miroku removed the beads from his hand. Before he could reveal use Wind Tunnel, Mewtwo stared at Miroku in the eyes and used Disable. The helpless male fell unconsciously to the floor.

"Wow, Mewtwo, I'm actually impressed," said the announcer. "How about you join me and insult everyone?"

"Will I get paid?"

"Sure."

"How much?"

The announcer opened a drawer and shuffled some papers around until he finally found a calculator. "According to my calculations…" the announcer tapped some buttons. "Exactly 0.000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001 percent."

"Forget it. I can get more money from giving Bowser sponge baths."

The cameraman snickered at the thought of the gargantuan turtle-like villain squatting in a tiny metal tub filled with frothy, soapy bubbles and warm water.

The announcer sighed and went through a file that said, "Emergency Only". This was an emergency, since Mewtwo was so calm and brushed off every comment without even yelling or denying. The announcer read a line about Mewtwo and laughed evilly.

"Mewtwo…he keeps a secret vault filled with Caterpie plushies."

Instantly, he turned a deep scarlet. "I-I d-d-do not-t!" he stammered.

"Uh huh, then why are you blushing and stammering?" inquired the cameraman.

Mewtwo whispered to himself, "My life as I know it is ruined…" And with that he exited the studio shamefully, leaving the cameraman and the announcer laughing, and Miroku still unconscious.

"Now you know…Mewtwo, the Caterpie plushie collector who hits on demon slayers and sings in the shower."

* * *

Next is Mr. Game and Watch! Which won't be easy, considering he can't talk…then I'll torment Young Link…:snicker: Stay tuned! 


	19. Mr Game and Watch

Since I took a while to put up the last chapter, I'm writing this sooner than I planned.

Disclaimer: Nintendo made it pretty clear that they owned SSBM with that big red logo at the beginning of the game, don't you think?

* * *

Mr. Game and Watch was sprinting out of a grocery store with a bag of doughnuts, since he couldn't get any at the bakery… 

Flashback

_Marth and Kirby must have gained 35 pounds or morefrom doughnuts. The blue-haired prince was still hastily shoving raspberry jelly filled doughnuts pieces into his mouth._

_Kirby glared at Marth as he rubbed his stomach with a satisfied grin. Marth fished out his sword from a closet and triumphantly with the last of the doughnut in his left hand. He shoved it acquisitively into his piehole and slowly swallowed it and devoured it._

"_I just ate 10,000 doughnuts in one week! That must be a world record! Kirby, go call the Guiness Book of World Records! I'm going to get rich and buy the world's largest pastry factory!" He waved his sword through the air as his stomach jiggled. Kirby managed to stand up and very slowly walk to some closet._

_A familiar black figure came through the doors of the tiny yet filthy bakery. _

"_Beep beep bop ba beep!" shouted Mr. Game and Watch._

"_Huh?" asked Marth._

"_Beep. Beep. Bop. Ba. Beep."_

_Marth raised his eyebrows and put a hand through his silky azure locks. "I don't get it."_

"_BEEP BEEP BEEP!" screeched Mr. Game and Watch as he left. It was obviously frustrating when no one could understand what he was trying to say._

So now Mr. Game and Watch clutched his doughnut bag and ran back to the Smasher Mansion. Unfortunately, he accidentally ran into-you guessed it- the Know Your Smashers studio!

The cameraman was sniffing the citrus scented camera when Mr. Game and Watch walked through the door. "Oh goodie, another person to torment! Oh announcer!"

"Yes yes, I see cameraman. Mr. Game and Watch, have a seat," said the announcer.

"But won't his 2 dimensional body rip the chair?"

"Good point. Sit here." A wooden stool fell from a vault in the ceiling. Mr. Game and Watch sat down as the lights dimmed and the announcer began.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smahsers, know your smashers…"

Mr. Game and Watch was just plain confused and didn't know where he was.

"Mr. Game and Watch…he stole Young Link's roast beef."

"Bop ba ba beep cowboy bebop," responded Mr. Game and Watch.

"Cowboy Bebop? I love that show! I-"

"Shut up cameraman!" the announcer snapped, cutting off the cameraman once again. "I need to find my beep translator." The announcer fished through a drawer and pulled out a small triangular device and pressed the 'on' button in the back. Now Mr. Game and Watch could talk so the cameraman and the announcer could understand what he was saying.

"I didn't steal the roast beef, I don't even like roast beef. That was Nana."

"Sure, blame such a sweet innocent little girl."

"It's true!"

"Yeah, and I was born in Antarctica. Mr. Game and Watch…he wishes his name was Eensie Weensie Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini."

"I don't wish for my name to be something so stupid as Eensie Weensie Teeny Weeny!"

"Oh, so you want it to be Yellow Polka Dot Bikini then."

"I do not! I'm just plain old Mr. Game and Watch. Don't you get that?"

"Nope. Mr. Yellow Polka Dot Bikini…he is related to the yellow AOL logo dude."

The cameraman's eyes lit up. "Really? Tell him I said hi!"

"That's my second cousin eight times removed!"

"How is that possible?" wondered the cameraman.

"It just is."

"Okay then…Mr. Yellow Polka Dot Bikini…he is related to the People PC logos."

"I'm related to one that married Pac Man! So that's my sister-in-law, otherwise I'm related to none of them."

"I want to get Pac Man's autograph!" mentioned the cameraman randomly.

"No one cares," the announcer answered flatly as Mr. Game and Watch started to restlessly squirm around in his chair.

"Mr. Yellow Polka Dot Bikini…he has eaten more doughnuts than anybody in the world."

Marth heard this somehow and burst through the doors. "Oh really? Well then, I sir, challenge you to a duel!" He fluttered his sword through the air as his cape swayed. He grabbed Mr. Game and Watch's hand and dragged him back to the bakery.

_Not again, _thought Mr. Game and Watch.

So Marth and Mr. Game and Watch were on their way to the bakery, leaving the cameraman and the announcer alone in he studio.

The announcer ended with, "Now you know…Mr. Yellow Polka Dot Bikini, the roast beef thief who is related to Internet service logos."

A certain blond swordsman entered the studio anxiously. "Where is my roast beef?" he asked no one in particular.

The announcer cackled darkly. "Great, we have our next vict-I mean guest."

* * *

Next chapter: Young Link, the duel between Marth and Mr. Game and Watch, the person who really stole the beef unveiled, and a mystery guest star. After Young Link will be Popo. 


	20. Young Link

Here is chapter 20, featuring another Hylian elf. Well, it's really the same elf, only younger.

Disclaimer: You should know after 19 chapters of this story.

* * *

First, you will get to witness the duel of doughnut-eating between Mr. Game and Watch and Marth. 

Two enormous plates of doughnuts sat on the table, one for Marth, one for Mr. Game and Watch. It was filled with doughnuts of every kind imaginable, including but not limited to, powdered sugar, cream-filled, chocolate glazed, fruitcake delight, and Lysol lemon.

Kirby toddled in and stood up a wooden stool with a tiny lime green flag in his right hand. He waited a few seconds, then energetically waved the flag, signaling the competitors to begin.

Marth forced his head into the mountain of deep-fried goodies and fiercely bite at them. Mr. Game and Watch did the same. They both continued at a decent pace for about five minutes. Then a certain blue-haired swordsman began to slow down. Kirby's mouth hung open in surprise.

"Too…many…doughnuts," Marth bellowed, then falling over, holding his stomach and moaning.

A stranger came in, not knowing that Marth and Kirby had bought the bakery a while ago. He walked into a store full of jelly stains on the wall, crumbs scattered messily all over the floor, and Marth lying helplessly on the floor while Kirby watched in awe and Mr. Game and Watch finished over half of his bowl of doughnuts.

"Excuse me, may I have a cappuccino and a blueberry muffin?" the stranger asked Kirby. As he waited for an answer, his eyes wandered down to Marth, who was still groaning in pain and clutching his belly. The stranger gasped.

"Oh no! This poor woman must be pregnant and in labor! Don't worry, I'll rush her to the hospital immediately."

Marth's tummy was throbbing with pain, so he couldn't answer that. Kirby was too shocked, and Mr. Game and Watch was scooping the last doughnut crumb out of his bowl.

The stranger carried Marth to his filthy crimson van and lay him carefully in to back seat and buckled him in. He fastened his seat belt, pulled out of the driveway, and turned left to the nearest hospital.

Mr. Game and Watch did a victory dance. Kirby awarded him with a silky blue ribbon. Then turned on the radio and did the Macarena together.

"So, is my roast beef here? I wanted it for lunch, along with my cupcake, apple, and Lon Lon Milk," Young Link informed the announcer and the cameraman.

"Take a seat, and we'll tell you," responded the announcer with an evil snicker. The cameraman couldn't wait to see how this little hungry midget would be made fun of.

Young Link, who is apparently quite gullible, sat in the chair as his empty stomach growled for food. Just as the Hylian was ready for the roast beef, the lights became dim.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smahsers."

"Where in Hyrule is my lunch? Fork it over!" he whined, putting his left hand over his stomach.

"Young Link…he is a spoiled, immature brat who doesn't know when to stop annoying people."

Young Link snorted, showing he was unimpressed. "Zelda has called me that…" He counted on his fingers. "Exactly 718 times. After 121 it didn't affect me." Young Link smiled proudly at the fact he had actually thought of a comeback. His older self would have been so proud.

The cameraman yawned. "Whatever." He took out some video games and began ripping out pictures of bananas and Donkey Kong.

"Young Link…he is lactose intolerant."

"That makes no sense. How would I be able to stand drinking so much milk?"

"Why do you like milk so much anyway?" pondered the cameraman. "I only like Special Edition Banana Milk beca-"

"NO BODY CARES!" shouted Young Link, already exasperated by the announcer.

"Uhh…What he said. Young Link…he gets uber moody when he sits down."

"What the heck? Where did you get that? And there is no such word as uber!"

"Yes there is!" objected the cameraman, yet again attempting to pose heroically.

"Yeah, and is it in the dictionary?"

"No! The dictionary is so overrated anyway." The cameraman's pants began to slip. "The best words are made up."

"Um, cameraman…" mentioned the announcer. Young Link immaturely giggled and pointed.

The cameraman looked down and shrieked like a four year old. "At least you guys didn't see my special underwear."

"And how is it special?" queried Young Link, lifting his eyebrow.

The announcer uttered, "Do we really want to know that?"

"Good point."

"I know, right? Young Link…he is in love with his older self."

"No way! That's just wrong. Besides, he's having a love affair with his hair."

Crickets chirp softly in the background as the three of them waited for someone to say something.

"Um…I like pie," reported the announcer.

"So do I," agreed the cameraman.

"And Young Link likes the older version of himself!"

"I do not!" Young Link pulled up his hat that had been sliding off of his hat and crossed his arms.

"Young Link…he is currently dating Dora the Explorer."

"I don't even know a Dora!" Young Link justified, trying his best to sound purely innocent.

"If you're actually telling the truth, then now you do," the cameraman told him.

As if right on time, a petite female with dark brown hair and hazel eyes in a salmon pink shirt and orange shorts sprinted through the doors anxiously. A gray monkey with red boots that looked like clown shoes followed behind her.

The girl ran and jumped into Young Link's lap. "Hola! I am Dora!" screeched the girl into Young Link's ear. "And that's Boots!" She pointed to the monkey.

"Do you have to scream?"

"Yep!" answered Boots cheerfully.

"You two youngsters have fun," declared the announcer as Dora pulled Young Link out of his chair by his left index finger.

"We will! We can go to the hospital and visit sick people and annoy them!"

"Oh joy."

"That's right!" Boots assured him.

"And then you can buy me ice cream and listen to me babble about my therapist!" Dora added.

So Young Link, Dora, and Boots exited the studio and headed left to the nearest hospital.

"Now you know...Young Link, the lactose intolerant spoiled, immature brat who is dating Dora the Explorer."

"Not true! And where is my roast beef already?" inquired Young Link as he peeked back in. Apparently the little elf was still hungry.

A pound of roast beef bombarded from the air and stuck to Young Link's face. "Thank you! I think..."

* * *

That was a bit longer, hope you liked it. I've been thinking about doing a chapter for the cameraman, what do you think? Oh yeah, and the Ice Climbers will get separate chapters. Next will be Popo, then Samus. YAY! 


	21. Popo

Chapter 20, featuring Popo. Oh goodie.

And about the Dora thing, for those who are wondering: The only reason I know about it is from stupid commercials and stuff, like there was some talking Dora doll. That and there was this one family I knew that had a three year old that watched it, so when I went over there it was on. I don't watch it.

Disclaimer: Do you really think I'm going to bother?

* * *

Popo had just found a Bunny Hood. He was darting around crazily like a dog trying to bite its tail, running for a while until he lost the hood. He sadly slowed to a walk, dragging his wooden hammer. Luckily, he came across another Bunny Hood, picked it up, and then ran all the way into the Know Your Smashers studio. 

"Announcer, look! Someone new to insult," the cameraman pointed out giddily.

"I can see that cameraman. What do you think I am, a blind whale?"

"Well, you're stuck up in your little office, you yeah, you could be," was the cameraman's idiotic response.

The announcer was silent.

"Where am I?" Popo squeaked.

"A studio. Sit down to claim your free papaya," the announcer instructed dully.

"Oh goodie!" The little boy clapped and climbed into the chair.

A groan is heard from the left of the studio as the announcer, the cameraman, and Popo looked around to see what exactly it was.

"Maybe we're hearing things," suggested the cameraman as he scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah," the announcer agreed as the lights went faint. "Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers."

Popo's eyes scanned the studio and he twirled his hammer in his small hands.

"Popo…he likes to spread butter on the TV and lick it."

"Eww! I don't know anyone who does that…"

Another groan is heard, this time louder.

"Who the banana is that?" asked an irritated cameraman.

A certain monk carefully stood up and clutched his staff. He brushed the dust and lint off of his robe and back onto the grimy floor.

"Ugh, where am I? Oh why do I care…I had the best dream, Sango bore my children, and they turned out to be triplets!"

"No one cares!" the cameraman snapped. "And for some reason that disturbed me." The cameraman reached into a backpack and pulled out a rubber banana toy and squeezed it, causing the banana to squeak. He hugged it and sang some sort of lullaby to it.

"Miroku…GET OUT OF MY STUDIO!" blared the announcer.

"Fine, fine. I'll just go talk to Samus." And with that Miroku opened the door and marched out.

"Stupid monks. Anyhow, Popo…he draws pictures of himself in a pretty pink tutu and doing ballet with the Teletubbies."

"Who are the Teletubbies? I don't like pink or ballet, Nana does." Popo's eyes drifted from side to side, trying to avoid the cameraman's deranged stare. Every now and then, the cameraman looked up at Popo and smiled so wide you would think his lips would tear.

"Which brings me to my next comment. Popo…Nana is his girlfriend."

Popo wrinkled his teeny nose and squinted, like he had just eaten a raw lemon. "But she's my sister! And I don't want a girlfriend. Girls are icky."

The cameraman nodded and clapped excitedly. "I know that's right!"

"Get a life cameraman. _Besides _collecting useless Donkey Kong items."

The cameraman pouted. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"Popo…he gave Nana a concussion so he could then hypnotize her to become his girlfriend."

"No I didn't! I don't want an icky girlfriend, I never gave my sister a concussion, except for one time at summer camp, but that's a whole different story." Popo's normally pale skin turned rosy with both humiliation and anger.

"Ooh ooh! Tell me! Tell me!" The cameraman sat down cross-legged on the floor and leaned in with a fixed gaze on Popo, like a child eager to hear a good story.

"Cameraman, don't make me replace you."

"NO NO! Please, have mercy!" He switched to a position on his knees and begged for mercy.

"Fine then. Popo…he hates Teen Titans."

Starfire, Raven, Robin, Beast Boy, and Cyborg and appeared and pointed at the little boy in the indigo parka.

"Titans, go!" Robin ordered.

The other four has eyes filled with pure fury. Popo let out a piercing shriek before leaving the studio with the Titans chasing behind him.

"Now you know…Popo, the Teen Titans hater who dreams of doing ballet in a pretty pink tutu with the Teletubbies."

Meanwhile, the stranger had carried Marth into the hospital and waited impatiently at the front desk, tapping his foot to the annoying classical music in the background.

"May I help you?" asked a cheerful nurse.

"Yes, we have a pregnant woman here." He held up Marth, who had fallen asleep, a little higher for her to see, sweat dripping from his forehead.

"Ah I see. Let me show you an available room." The nurse carried a clipboard and led the man and Marth to a room down a hall on the right.

At that time, Dora, Boots, and Young Link entered the hospital.

"So, where to first? The maternity ward, or the place where they put leftover body parts in liquid-filled jars?" Dora inquired in a horribly annoying voice.

Young Link covered his ears. "Neither, I want to go home!"

"Too bad!" Dora slipped her backpack off of her shoulders and hauled out a pair of handcuffs. She connected one hoop around her left wrist, and used the other on Young Link's right wrist. She skipped off happily to the maternity ward, dragging the poor elf behind her.

The nurse opened the door for the man and he gently slipped Marth onto the bed.

"This is your room, 208. Some nurses will come in within an hour or two," the nurse informed the man as she scribbled some notes on a piece of paper that was on the clipboard.

The man replied, "Okay, thanks." The nurse pushed her huge circular glasses up higher onto her nose and paced out, closing the door softly behind her. The man sat down and stared out the window, enjoying the crimson sunset. The sun looked like a giant tangerine in the sky. Flocks of birds flew about and the grass was shadowed by the tall tress in the field.

Young Link followed behind Dora until she stopped at a door.

"Room 208. I wonder who's in here?" Boots commented.

"Let's find out. ¡Vamos!"Dora exclaimed. She put a hand on the door and eagerly twisted the knob.

* * *

Cliffhanger, oh teh noes! Next chapter is Samus, then Pichu. The next chapter is coming to a theater nowhere you. 


	22. Samus Aran

Over 11,000 hits! w00t! Thanks everyone. This story will be ending soon, though I can't say when this will be done.

Disclaimer: Hasn't changed!

* * *

"Samus, will you bear my child?" 

**Smack!**

"Ow," groaned Mirkou, rubbing his head where Samus had punched him. "Why did you do that?"

"You deserved it," the bounty hunter replied coldly. She slowly walked out of the field where she had earlier had the misfortune of meeting the monk.

"No! Wait for me!"

She ran, each step getting faster, and faster, until he was far behind. Soon she accidently darted into the dark, dusty Know Your Smashers studio.

She was a little tired from running a long distance, but thanfully, she spotted the silhouette of a figure in the middle of the stage. After noticing it was a lovely black chair, she used her last ounce of energy to sprint eagerlyto it and sit down.

Immediately the weak lights became even weaker with only one vivid light shining down on the bounty hunter. The cameraman was just finished polishing the hot pink camera and was ready for action.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers," came the infamous voice.

"Who…is that?" panted Samus, starting to catch her breathe.

"Samus Aran…her suit is made out of cardboard."

"No it's not, otherwise it would burn when I fight," responded Samus calmly.

"She's right," added the cameraman as he sat in a chair, casually examining his nails. For once, he wasn't goofing off, and that was rare.

"Cameraman, are you okay?"

"Yes, why? I'm just having a peaceful moment."

"Wow, I might as well savor this time, as it will neevr come again."

"Sure, if you say so. I still think Samus is right."

"Whatever, I don't have to argue, I know I'm always right anyway. Samus Aran…her charge shot was ripped off of Dragonball Z."

"No it wasn't! And if it was, then I blame Nintendo," she answered hastily.

"Yeah, and I'm Simon Cowell."

"I'm sure you are," answered Samus, using the same sarcastic voice the announcer did.

"That guy is mean!" blurted the cameraman. It looked like he was back to his old self.

"I see you're back to your childish energetic state."

"You bet!" The cameraman loosened his worn-out leather shoes and swung his foot into the air, causing it to fly off and hit the wall.

The announcer sighed while Samus became somewhat restless and fidgeted with a loose string on the chair. He ran around screaming and sliding across the gritty floor in his black socks while attempting to sing some songhe most likely made up. And about flying cows, strangely.

"Samus Aran…she's nude under that suit."

Miroku finally pushed the door open, panting and sweating vigorously. He fell down to his knees and crawled over to Samus.

"Are you…really?" he asked with a hopeful voice. He grinned innocently, trying to look angelic.

**Smack!**

Apparently that didn't work…

"No, this announcer makes up lies to try and frustrate people. I think it's rather pointless…And no, I have other clothes under this suit."

"For the last time monk, get out of here," the announcer ordered.

Miroku sighed and ran his grimy fingers across his forehead to remove the sweat. "Fine." He turned to Samus. "I'll see you again someday…"

Samus tried to smack him, but he managed to leave before the announcer called the guards.

"Samus Aran…she is really a guy," the announcer reported delightfully.

"Thankfully that monk wasn't here to hear that. But nope, I'm female."

"WHEE!" screeched the cameraman. He danced with excitement. The dance he was doing was unidentified, but then again so things are better left unknown.

"Samus Aran...she conditions her hair with avacados, lemon juice, and mayonnaise."

"No actually, that's Link."

Link somehow happened to hear this and immediately appeared in the studio. "How dare you reveal my secret formula!" screeched the elf-err, Hylian male with pointy ears as she pointed at the bounty hunter with rage. "Now if everyone figures out how to mix it, everyone will have perfect hair, and I won't be special anymore!"

"I don't think you ever were special," the cameraman declared after stopping his dancing.

Link gave the cameraman a vicious glare before exiting and slamming the door behind himself.

"Anyways, Samus Aran…she is an Edward Elric fangirl."

"At last, something that is true…" the bounty hunter murmured, not knowing she said that out loud and that the announcer heard it.

"Ah ha! So you are then, aren't you?"

Samus snapped back to reality. "Huh? Did I say that out loud?" She frantically squirmed about in her chair. "You weren't supposed to hear that!"

"Ah, but I did. Too bad for you," the announcer retorted smoothly, immensely entertained at the fact he had revealed one of her secrets.

"Noooooooooo!" Samus screamed tragically. She ran out of the studio in case the announcer knew any more of her secrets that were darker and more humiliating.

The cameraman finally put his shoes back on and sat down to catch his breath. "Whew, that was awesome! I'm gonna do that again." So after a second or two of rest, the cameraman was at it again.

The announcer pondered why he hadn't fired the cameraman yet. Something about him and his presence was comforting and entertaining, like he was there for comic relief…

"Know you know…Samus Aran, the Edward Elric fangirl with a cardboard suit whose charge shot was ripped off of Dragonball Z."

Meanwhile at the hospital, the mysterious man sat in a chair by Marth's bed, scanning through a newspaper, his legs crossed. There was an awkward silence, until Marth began to regain consciousness. He rolled around for a while, then sat straight up, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Oh you're awake," commented the man warmly, followed by an odd smile. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Ma…Ma…Mar, Marth-"

"Oh, Martha? That's a nice name. No need to try so hard to talk, I know what you're saying." He flipped through another page of the newspaper.

Marth's face turned maroon with both embarrassment and anger. He was mad for still being mistaken for a woman. The blue-haired male pulled himself out of bed and dashed to the bathroom.

Before Dora, Boots, and Young Link were able to enter the door, Marth flew out of it and entered the bathroom, smashing it behind him. The group of three stood staring at the door nosily.

About three or four flushes were heard, as well as Marth sighing in relief. Young Link blinked in confusion, wondering what had happened to him. Just as the door began to unlock, an odor to horrid to describe filled the air.

"EWW!" shouted Dora, plugging her nose tightly with her hands.

Then the smell took over the hospital, knocking out everyone in there, patients, nurses, doctors, and visitors alike, all dropping to the floor like globs of jelly.

Marth soon came out to find complete and udder silence. Not even crickets chirped to break it.

"Oh well…Back to the bakery!" And with that, the swordsman marched out of the hospital happily, finally glad to be out of that fiasco.

* * *

Next will be Pichu, then Nana. You know the drill, read and review, so I'll give you cookies! 


	23. Pichu

Meh, too lazy to type author's notes now. Maybe later. I don't own anyone or anything used in the chapter, except the cameraman.

* * *

Poor little Pichu was stretching his undersized arms and pushing himself in a wheelchair. Apparently the burn from Mewtwo's Fire Flower hadn't healed yet, and that mixed with running back and forth to deliver notes really wore him out. 

Then a UFO glided above Pichu. His beady black eyes followed the UFO as it slowly moved. He was a little nervous about what would happen next, but too weak to move and too stupid to call for help. So a lime green ray of light shot down on Pichu and he was abducted by…goodness knows whatever is inside.

"Pi pic pichu!" he chirped helplessly.

"Wahahahahahah!" laughed a demented alien, who was marine blue and dressed in a maroon spandex suit. "Wahaha-" Apparently he wasn't experienced with the whole evil laugh thing, so the other alien shook his head, almost embarrassed for him.

"Now, we have finally found the perfect meal!" cried the lavender alien in an orange spandex suit triumphantly. He stood on a chair and attempted to dance. Pichu rolled his eyes.

"I'll fry him!" offered the blue alien. "I have just the right materials: a frying pan, no-stick spray, a spatula, salt for flavoring, and cotton candy perfume from a department store."

"How will the perfume help us?"

"I dunno. But it smells real nice!" The alien gently shook the bottle and sprayed a ton in the other's face. He coughed from the fumes and waved his hand to make them go away.

"Stop fooling around!" he snapped. "We must start to cook this little yellow dumpling." The aliens stared at the ceiling dreamily, imagining being at a table with a plateful of fried rodent.

Both remembered that the fantasy was about to become a reality…until they finally noticed Pichu went missing.

"Where did that little rat go!" snapped the lavender alien.

"Don't look at me!" the blue one replied.

Both searched frantically for the electric rat, but gave up and thought he was gone after two and a half seconds of looking. The only thing they knew was that Pichu had left his wheelchair on the UFO.

Meanwhile, in the air, Pichu was his tail to skydive. Considering the size of his tail, that didn't go very well. Pichu ended up jumping out of the UFO, attempting to use his miniature tail as a parachute, then falling helplessly to the ground, wailing for help. Too bad he didn't speak English.

Pichu crashed through the roof of Taco Bell.

He stood up and rubbed a sore spot on his head where he had landed. The neon signs near the register near known as the menu caught Pichu's eye. He eagerly dashed to the register, pushing through other people's legs as they either shrieked out of surprise or laughed because his pointy tail tickled. The electric rat leaped as high as he could through the air and ended up grabbing the edge of the counter with only a finger. He grunted, then pulled himself up. He flashed a cute smile to the employee.

"What do you want?" sneered the teenage employee, not affected by Pichu's cuteness.

Pichu eyed the menu and noticed some kind of bean burrito. "Pichu pichu pi!"

The teenager blinked. "Come again?"

"Pichu pichu pi!" Pichu repeated, trying to say it more clearly and slowly.

The teenage put a finger in her ear and dug around, as if trying to get a ball of wax out. "I don't get it…"

"PICHU PICHU PI!" screeched Pichu.

Suddenly every window in the building cracked, causing the glass to divide into diminutive glistening shards, falling both outside and onto the greasy tile floor.

The shocked customers immediately evacuated the building, hopped into their cars, and drove away quickly. The manager took baby steps to avoid pieces of glass. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave Pichu a harsh glare.

"You…you…you…" stuttered the manager, pointing a hefty index finger.

"I'll finish this," offered the employee. She grabbed a broom from the back closet, swung it a few times, and then eventually whacked Pichu out of the building.

"PICHU!"

"So, circumference equals pi times the diameter," read the cameraman aloud out of a math book. "Pie! I love pie! So I guess I take a pie, measure the diameter, then multiply to get the circumferthingy! It's perfect!"

The announcer sighed at his worker's stupidity.

"Cameraman, did you go to school?"

"Yes, but it doesn't mean I paid attention."

"Then how on Earth did you pass?"

"I either bribed my teacher with chocolate, or hacked into the computers when no one was watching and changed my F---s to As," admitted the cameraman with a pleased smile.

"But F---s aren't even real grades."

"I was dumb enough to earn them!"

"And you're proud?" inquired the announcer, partially wondering why he was surprised.

"Yep. I got –78.4 on a science test once."

Pichu flew into the studio, landing safely somehow on the chair on the stage.

"Thank goodness, a vic-I mean, guest. Welcome. I was worried talking anymore to the cameraman would make me catch his stupidity. The kind he has appears to be a rabid disease rather just an ordinary bad quality."

"But it's another Pokemon. Fortunately, I have a translator." The cameraman dug around in his left pocket on his pants and pulled out an old pair of movie tickets, a cotton ball, and a rotten banana peel. He tossed all of that aside and finally pulled out a sleek square device. He pressed the tiny on button, then signaling for the announcer to start.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers…"

Pichu blinked and sneezed.

"Aw, how cute!" gushed the cameraman in a sickeningly sweet voiced.

"Just be quiet! Pichu…he is made out of banana pudding."

"No I'm not! I'm just like any other Pichu, except cuter!" The Pokemon smiled cheekily and the cameraman squealed like one of Marth's fangirls.

"Sure, and I'm Homer Simpson."

"Really? Can I have your autograph?" asked Pichu innocently.

"Is sarcasm a foreign language to you?"

"I don't know, is it?" Pichu's ear wiggled, as if it were showing his curiosity.

The announcer sighed heavily. "Pichu…he almost killed himself while trying to plug in a Gamecube."

"No, I almost killed myself while trying to cut pizza. Stupid Ness walked into me and knocked it out of my hands, onto the floor. That pizza cutter could have sliced my tail off!"

"Are you sure it would have killed you?" wondered the cameraman.

"No. I like pancakes!" Pichu waved his arms enthusiastically, like he had just guzzled a giant bag of sugar.

"Waffles are better!" scoffed the cameraman, then sticking out his tongue.

"Pancakes!"

"Waffles!"

"Pancakes!"

"Waffles!"

"Alright already!" screamed the announcer. "No one cares about mere breakfast items."

"But it's the most important meal of the day!" whined the cameraman.

"I don't care. What I do care about it insulting our guest. You should care about keeping your job. Pichu…he chews on plungers at Thanksgiving."

"That's Dr. Mario."

Luckily Dr. Mario was too busy chewing on a new plunger in a cramped bathroom to have heard that. Otherwise, he would have come down to object to it.

"Pichu…he has become addicted to shocking himself," the announcer declared.

"No I haven't!"

"Then why are you still a smasher?"

"They pay me with bean burritos, and Jell-O cups. LOTS of 'em." A drop of saliva rolled down his cheek as he imagined the steaming hot burritos, following by a cherry Jell-O cup with a huge glob of whipped cream.

"Yum," the cameraman commented.

"Pichu…he-"

"Has to go eat!" reported Pichu, cutting the announcer off. "Bye!" And with that, he dashed out of the studio, heading for another Taco Bell.

"That was awkward."

The cameraman nodded and took out his squeaky banana toy and played with it.

"Oh well. Now you know…Pichu, the plunger chewer that's made of banana pudding."

"WHEE! It's bananas! B-A-N-A-N-A-S! It's bananas! B-A-N-A-N-A-S!" sang the cameraman, waving the little noisy banana.

"Here's the tip of the day: don't quit your day job to become a Gwen Stefani impersonator," advised the announcer, disturbed by his horrid singing voice.

* * *

Here are the cookies to reviewers from last chapter, like I promised. YAYZORZ!

Next is Nana. After that is Dr. Mario.


	24. Nana

Since the story is close to its ending, except frequent updates. I want to get this story out of the way so I can work on others, plus all the nice reviewers help motivate me. Thank you!

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. Except the cameraman, since he wouldn't exist if it weren't for me. I also disclaim talk shows and anime-dubbing companies.

* * *

"That guy said WHAT!"

Little Nana's normally pale face was flushed with anger, her fists shaking vengefully after dropping a crinkled scrap of paper.

"H-he-he s-said someth-thing about your b-b-boyfriend P-popo waiting for you at that a-address," mumbled Pichu in fear. He nibbled his key lime pie slice to help soothe his quivering body. Never before had he seen the girl so outraged.

"He's my brother! That's SO wrong. Guess what? I'm going down to that place to give that guy a piece of my mind!" declared Nana in a boisterous voice, swinging her mallet heroically in the air. "I shall avenge all the Smashers that have been humiliated by this cruel soul!"

Pichu beamed with excitement at the avengement part. He licked the leftover pie crumbs from his stubby fingers before they had the chance to stumble down his stomach and go to waste.

_I wonder where Samus is?_ Pichu thought.

**Meanwhile, in a therapist's office…**

The bounty hunter's helmet was off as she cried her eyes out. She took out a tissue swiftly and noisily blew her nose.

"So, tell me what happened," suggested the therapist calmly.

"Th-th-this m-mean announcer g-guy insulted m-meee!" she sobbed.

For Samus, this was very unusual, that much the therapist could identify. She picked up her new orchid pen and jotted down some notes on a clipboard.

"I see. How did you get there in the first place?"

"Well, um, I…I somehow got in this studio where an announcer insults p-people for a-a l-l-living-g. He…he…r-revealed my d-deepest-t s-s-secret!" she wailed, still trying to stop. Apparently this scarred her for life.

"And what exactly is this secret of yours?" questioned the therapist.

"I'manEdwardElricfangirl," she murmured quietly and quickly.

"Come again?"

"I'm an Edward Elric fangirl," Samus repeated, sounding only slightly louder.

"I'm sorry, I still can't hear you."

"I'm. An. Edward. Elric. Fangirl!" she shrieked in a shrill, earsplitting tone, making it sound like she spoke in monosyllables.

The therapist cringed. "Well, you're definitely not alone…"

"Really?" Samus asked, sounded hopeful with a sprinkle of cheerfulness.

The therapist stood up and dug through some drawers at her desk. She eventually fished out a dusty tape. After blowing off the dust, she put it in her VCR.

"And today on Dr. Phil, we have seven girls here, who have one thing in common. It's pretty obvious as to what it is if you look at their shirts."

The teenage girl stood up proudly, flashing auburn shirts that read, "I'm am an Edward Elric fangirl. FEAR ME!"

"Edward is cute!" shouted one random person from the audience.

"And he's MINE!" screamed all seven girls in unanimity. They looked at each other, each with their own disgusted facial expression. "HE'S MINE!"

"Calm down girls," Dr. Phil asked politely.

The teenagers reluctantly sat down with anger.

"Now, we are here to see why you ladies are so obsessive. Would you care to tell us what is so great about this Edward person?"

"He's hot! End of story," vociferated one thin girl with curly raven hair.

The other six applauded in agreement.

"And that's all there is to it?"

"Yes!" said another girl, this one with short red hair and fiery hazel eyes. "He'll be my husband."

"No, he'll be mine!" argued the black-haired one.

"He's mine and you know it!"

"Shut up, Ed belongs to me!"

Soon, all the girls were cat fighting, not even caring that they were being humiliated on television. The audience eagerly watched the pandemonium.

Dr. Phil sighed and mumbled something about never getting paid enough to deal with idiotic guests. "Security! Call the insanity asylum! Make sure they have seven openings!"

One security guard nodded and called nine others, who darted onto the stage and scooped up the jiggling teenagers, who were are restless as bugs stuck in a tight cage.

Dr. Phil put on a fake smile. "We'll see you next time!" he announced. "I'm really need more caffeine…"

The therapist stopped the tape. "See what I mean?"

Samus's eyes looked like they had frozen with amazement. She didn't move a muscle or blink.

Back with Nana, who had already found the studio, was wandering for some sign of human life.

"Announcer! Come out here, you coward!"

"Ah, so the Eskimo finally made it here. Have a seat, young Nana."

Nana unwillingly climbed onto the chair and sat down, pouting. "Look, I-"

Nana was cut off by the announcer ever-famous three words. "Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers…"

"What the heck is going on?"

"Nana…her wooden mallet smells like baby powder."

"No it doesn't!" Nana sniffed her mallet to be sure. "Smells like fresh wood to me!"

"If you multiply four by four, do you get fourty-four?" inquired the cameraman.

"No. Cameraman, are you really THAT stupid?"

"Nope! My I.Q. test said my I.Q. was –187. That's really high, I must be a genius!" he declared.

The announcer sighed. "No cameraman, the negative numbers are less than zero. Therefore, you are an idiot with mental issues."

"I want smoked ham!"

"I almost feel sorry for you, having to deal with him," Nana commented dully, scanning the room curiously.

"I feel sorry for myself. Nana…she soaks her shoes in vinegar on Thursdays."

"Nope, but Luigi soaks his butt in grape juice on Saturdays."

"I didn't need to know that."

"Ya, like 0mg TM1!1!1one!" squealed the cameraman.

"Cameraman, why are you talking in leet?"

"1 d0nt kn0."

"Eh, oh well. Nana…she fantasizes of making out with Popo," the announcer reported, knowing that would set Nana off.

"That's why I came here. He's my brother! Why would I like him that way?"

"Ask yourself."

Nana scowled and refrained from saying something.

"Nana…her nightly ritual is belly dancing in front of a mirror in a Sailor Moon costume."

"I think that's Link…" Nana stared to her right and rubbed her chin. "Yep, it's Link. One time he blackmailed Bowser into it too."

The cameraman looked disturbed and inquisitive at the same time.

"I don't think I wanna know," responded the announcer.

"It might disturb you, so maybe it's better left unsaid." Nana smirked evilly, took a photograph out of her parka, and stared at it. She tried hard not to crack up.

"Nana…she is secretly a 4Kids employee."

A bunch of Tokyo Mew Mew, Shaman King, Sonic X, Ojamojo DoReMi, and fans of other animes that 4Kids screwed up appeared with gleaming torches in hand.

"CHARGE!" screamed a random person.

"AHHHHH!" Nana hopped onto the ground and ran for her life.

"Weird, both her brother and Nana ended up running away from an angry mob," the cameraman pointed out.

"Finally, you're right for once."

"Thank you!" The cameraman beamed with pride.

"You're still stupid," the announcer told him bluntly.

"Aw, man!"

"Now you know…Nana, the 4Kids employee that soaks her shoes in vinegar."

* * *

Next shall be Dr. Mario, after that the plot slightly changes. I can't really explain it now, so stay tuned! 


	25. Dr Mario

Fwee. This chapter is filled with extreme cameraman stupidity, so beware. And what did the fact that 'Know Your Smashers' is three words have to do with anything? I'm pretty sure I know that. Last time I checked I could count, thanks.

Disclaimer: The Smashers aren't mine. I own the cameraman, but not his stupidity. Blame Wal-Mart for that.

* * *

Dr. Mario was shopping for a new plunger at some cheap grocery store. He strolled casually down the aisles, keeping his eyes wide open in case he saw the perfect plunger. 

A pale lime green beam appeared in front of Dr. Mario. He felt the need to follow the beam, so he took tiny steps behind it. The beam grew larger with each step, until it came to a stop. It vibrated rapidly, causing the people in the grocery store to shriek with fear and dash out as fast as they could. Dr. Mario went back to the aisle with plungers and other bathroom supplies, and became too preoccupied with plungers to even move.

A little overweight boy, who didn't have a clue as to what was going on, was at a gumball machine. He dug around in the pocket of his muddy trousers and pulled out a shiny quarter. He grinned from ear to ear, which made him look somewhat like a hillbilly, and placed the quarter in the slot. The boy used all of his strength and pulled on the lever, grunting with pain and frustration.

"It won't work!" whined the boy, kicking the gumball machine, leaving muddy footprints on the glass. He scowled and finally decided to go ask for help, or in his case, complain to an employee about how messed up the machine was. As he turned around, not even bothering to take out his quarter, he noticed a blinding lime green.

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!" he bawled with alarm, pulling locks of his scruffy chestnut hair.

The light consumed the boy and Dr. Mario, eventually teleporting them to an unknown place.

"Okay, so it looks like only Dr. Mario and Yoshi remain," commented the announcer.

The cameraman nodded to make it seem like he was paying attention. Just as he began to blow up a long goldenrod balloon, a lime green light appeared. Once it faded, a crying boy and Dr. Mario emerged.

"Ah, Dr. Mario. Welcome, and please, have a seat," the announcer greeted him in a phony voice.

He rubbed his moustache thoughtfully, unsure of what to do.

"Just set your butt in the chair already!" the cameraman demanded the absent-minded doctor bluntly.

The doctor shrugged and hopped into the chair on the stage.

The cameraman's indigo eyes turned to the plump, whiny boy. "As for you, fatso! Go find your mama!"

The little boy cried louder and scurried out of the studio as fast as his stubby legs could take him. Right before he pushed the door opened, he mentioned something about getting five-dozen boxes of Twinkies.

Now that the chubby annoyance was gone, Dr. Mario could be tortured in peace. All the lights in the studio dimmed but one, the one that shined on the chair and Dr. Mario. Shortly after, the illustrious three words are heard.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers…"

Dr. Mario daydreamed about eating soufflé by candlelight with a toilet brush.

"Dr. Mario…he breaks into candy shops at night and takes Butterfingers."

"No I don't!" Dr. Mario insists, right before sneaking a piece of a Butterfinger into his mouth.

"Then what did you just put in your mouth?"

"Nothing! See?" Dr. Mario speedily swallowed it and opened his mouth to show he didn't have anything.

"Yeah, and my cousin was eaten by a snow globe last month."

"Oh dear, how tragic!" commented the cameraman, wiping a microscopic teardrop from the corner of his eye.

The announcer sighed and didn't both explaining the fact he was being sarcastic to the mentally slow male.

"Dr. Mario…his mother is a Norwegian fruitcake," retorted the announcer.

"I don't have any relatives that are fruitcakes."

"Wow, Dr. Mario is from Norwegia?" the cameraman asked excitedly.

"One, no cameraman, probably not. Two, it's Norway, not Norwegia. Norwegian describes something from Norway."

"Oh…that explains the G- I got in geography in middle school."

"Cameraman, G- is not even a grade. What, you were so idiotic, a new grade had to be invented?" the announcer queried, trying not to seem too surprised.

"You better believe it!"

The announcer sighed. "Dr. Mario…his Megavitamins are really women's vitamins."

"How di-I mean, no they aren't!" His face turned slightly red.

"Haha!" the cameraman mocked, pointing at him.

"I knew it, these files never cease to amaze. They're so resourceful…" the announcer cooed in an affectionate voice. More likely than not, the announcer was hugging the files.

Dr Mario fidgeted restlessly around in his chair, as if it was making him itchy.

The cameraman broke the announcer happy moment by yelling, "That's enough for now, don't you think?"

"Sorry. Ahem, Dr. Mario…he flunked medical school."

"No I didn't. I have a degree."

"Oh really? Then where is it?" the announcer questioned.

"Not with me right now."

"Yeah right, you're probably lying."

"It's true! And who would carry around their degree with them anyway?" Dr. Mario wondered as he swung his legs back and forth.

"Not you apparently. Dr. Mario…he got his degree from the Goofy Goober Academy."

"But you said I have no degree!" screamed the frustrated doctor.

"But you said you do," the announcer argued.

"You're hard to keep up with!"

"Thank you. Dr. Mario…he's engaged to a plunger."

"IT'S A PLUNGER!"

"Point being?" the announcer asked brusquely.

"No one would be engaged to a plunger."

"But Nana told us you make out with one," the cameraman pointed out with a mischievous smirk.

Total silence, until crickets begin to chirp in the background.

"She's wrong."

"Suuuuuuuuuuure."

Dr. Mario stared at the ceiling, blushing and whistling.

"Dr. Mario…he's really Hilary Duff."

"GET THE MATCHES!" ordered an unimportant person who came out of nowhere.

"AND THE PITCHFORKS!" suggested another.

"AND THE FRYING PANS!" hollered a third person.

"What do we need frying pans for?" asked the first person.

"To smack him on the head. It makes this cool metally vibrating sound. And to make eggs."

"I see. But metally isn't a word," responded the second.

"Oh well, it sounds interesting."

"Anyone wanna get a burger?" asked the first, breaking up their conversation.

"Sure," the other two answered in unison. They soon disappeared to a fast food place.

"I'm not some girl who can't sing to save her life!" Dr. Mario objected.

"Screwdriver," said the cameraman randomly.

"Whatever cameraman. Dr. Mario…he's cheating on his plunger with the Pillsbury Doughboy."

"I am not dating a plunger! But the Pillsbury Doughboy is kind of cute."

Suddenly, a plunger, which happens to be the three moth old crimson one that Dr. Mario 'isn't dating', sails through the air and whacks Dr. Mario right in the nose.

"Ow…" he moaned as he held his nose and rolled onto the floor. His nose got slightly bloody and eventually he lost consciousness.

"Now you know…Dr. Mario, the son of a Norwegian fruitcake that happens to be Hilary Duff and cheats on plungers," the announcer concluded while the cameraman took off his shoes and hair mousse in them.

* * *

Well, they you go, a little Halloween present. I really don't know where the story goes from here, but I do have the ending planned. It may take a while to get the next chapter up, though. Eh. May the kumquat be with you all. 


	26. The Cameraman

Wow, look who's alive and updating! This chapter may be slightly off due to the fact it's been almost two months since my last story update. That and this isn't your typical chapter. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I did not invent pie. /irrelevance

* * *

Only the cameraman and the announcer remained in the studio. It was their first time being together alone for such a long period of time that neither of them knew what to do. After long, awkward moments of the announcer's throat clearing and the cameraman's continuous humming of children's songs, the announcer broke the silence.

"Say, cameraman?….Cameraman?" the announcer squeaked after waiting for a moment.

The announcer heavily and lazily reached for a megaphone. After gently blowing off some excess dust, the announcer shouted into it, "CAMERAMAN!"

The quirky male was comfortably sitting in his chair, his head hanging back, beads of slimy drool slithering down his bony chin and forming a puddle on the germ-infested studio floor. His legs were stretched out casually. His eyes were shut tight, so apparently he was asleep and the announcer didn't wake him up.

The announcer waited impatiently for some sign that he was alive, even the quietest snore. The only sign of life was a fly picking at an old chunk of hamburger meat, but of course that had nothing to do with the oh-so-smooth cameraman.

"CAMERAMAN!" the announcer screamed into the old megaphone desperately.

"Huh? But I didn't steal your packing tape…" muttered the cameraman.

"Cameraman!" the announcer beamed, unknowingly showing him some positive attention rather than the usual teasing.

"I see a light…Am I dead? Is this heaven? Is my Uncle Susan here?"

"No cameraman, you are alive and in the Know Your Smashers recording studio. What you see is a light attached to the ceiling…And who names their boy Susan?" That painted a disturbing picture for the announcer.

"Oh good…I dreamt that I met some Swedish opera-singing fat lady and she tries to arrest me for supposedly stealing designer brand packing tape," the cameraman told the announcer as he rapidly rubbed his eyes and wiped away his saliva. "

That, and I wouldn't get to fully complete my 'Things to do Before I Die' List." He fished around in his coat pocket and pulled out an overly folded wad of paper.

"I'm just glad you're not dead," the announcer admitted.

"You are? Wow! That's the nicest thing you've said to me!" The cameraman found a pencil and crossed off 'Get genuinely complimented by the announcer,' which was between 'Go bungee jumping with a walrus,' and 'Get a periwinkle poodle tattoo.'

"Well, until our final 'guest' shows up, how about I get to know you?" the announcer asked, sounding as if he were plotting something evil.

"Okay!" the cameraman replied eagerly like a little boy.

The announcer dimmed the lights as the cameraman turned the camera so it faced him. "Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers," came the illustrious three words.

"Ee hee hee!" squealed the cameraman as he clapped childishly.

"The cameraman…he washes his clothes in chocolate syrup."

"Actually," responded the cameraman, attempting to sound noble, "I wash them in strawberry syrup."

"I suppose that explains the slight pink tint of your socks."

"Exactly!"

"Um…okay. The cameraman…he has a pet macho named Schmooterheimerdingle," was the announcer feisty retort.

"I do not! I have a pet Donkey Kong key chain named Banana," the cameraman cooed dreamily. He grinned with satisfaction as he daydreamed about how he got the beloved key chain.

**Flashback!**

Our delightful cameraman was walking slowly and lazily around the mall. He came across a new store called Key Chain Cove.

He recalled the part of a crime drama movie he saw last night and stroked his chin thoughtfully.

**Flashback within a flashback!**

A criminal donning a back leather outfit scanned the area cautiously. It was dark out, so not many police cars were out, and if they were, they were parked at bakeries. The criminal rubbed together his hands evilly and scurried like a mouse into the bank.

He cracked his knuckles and punched the cash register. Due to it being made of cheap material, it cracked right open like an egg, allowing the criminal to stuff loads of money into his bag. He cackled cruelly and escaped.

**End of flashback within a flashback!**

"Oh yeah…" mumbled the cameraman. "That was so cool!"

He ran into the Key Chain Cove, setting his eyes on the sleek cash register.

The cashier turned around. She had wavy, sunny blonde hair and glorious ocean blue eyes. The cameraman didn't pay much attention to her, but she immediately began talking to him.

"Hi there! May I help you?" screeched the girl, who had a horribly high voice that sounded like a mouse choking on a bit of cheese. A wide, toothy smile spread across her pale vanilla face.

The cameraman ignored her, cracked his knuckles, and then let out a high-pitched battle cry before punching the cash register.

Nothing happened to the cash register. The cameraman's eyes looked like they would pop out of their sockets as he formed an O shape with his lips and collapsed to the ground. He whispered to himself before massaging his throbbing hand.

"Silly, that cash register is made of super-hard steel! If you wanted to practice karate, you should have gone down to the studio!" The ditzy cashier remarked as she leaned over the counter.

The cameraman tried his best to ignore the pain and he shamefully stood up and limped toward the exit. A stand with Donkey Kong key chains caught his eye. He could still be a smooth criminal!

He snatched a key chain from the stand, then jogged victoriously out of the store. Before dashing off, he stood in front of the store entrance and held the key chain over his head.

"I am triumphant, and I so own you losers! Aahahahahaha!" he snickered before disappearing.

A customer and an employee stared blankly.

"What was THAT about?" asked the customer inquisitively while twirling a lengthy lock of ginger around her sticky leftover lollipop stick.

"I don't know. Maybe he thought he was a criminal because he took a Donkey Kong key chain before leaving," replied the employee with a shrug.

"But aren't those Donkey Kong key chains free today?"

"Yes. But I guess he didn't know that…" the employee absent-mindedly stared into the distance.

"Hmph. Men."

**End of flashback!**

"And I was never a good criminal ever since…" concluded the cameraman, who was glaring to his right with a thought-provoked expression. "Announcer?"

Snoring echoed through the studio. "Huh? Oh, I must have dozed off…But yes, you are better at being stupid," the announcer agreed.

The cameraman gasped out of pure excitement. "Thank you! That's two today!" he reported.

"Good for you. The cameraman…he absolutely loves family reunions."

"Oh gosh, no. The opposite of that…I absolutely _unlove_ family reunions…" the cameraman proclaimed before trailing off into yet another pointless story.

**Another pointless flashback!**

"Will take off that hat already?" asked an irritated cousin of the cameraman's. His narrow russet eyes were fixated on the cameraman's tacky olive ten-gallon hat, which was crafted poorly out of foam.

"I've worn this for eight months straight. I'm going for a record, and besides, you can't make me!" snapped a young, stubborn cameraman as he crossed his legs and turned his head defiantly.

His cousin simply poked his hat and it stumbled off of his head and landed in a patch of lime green grass.

"Hey!" he pouted angrily.

"Ha ha!"

"Oh grandsons, come massage Granny's feet!" called a cheerful yet ancient grandmother, who lay back in a sky blue beach chair. Her head looked like an over boiled cabbage with wrinkles for eyes and a mouth. She slowly pulled off her chocolate brown clogs and then her wrinkly, sweat-soaked crimson socks.

"I think this one's especially ripe. I have two bunions on it!" the old woman hollered,

pointing to her peachy left foot.

The cameraman and his cousin stared in sheer horror before rushing off, screaming unbelievably loudly.

**End of another pointless flashback!**

"Eww," the announcer answered in disgust.

"Exactly."

"Anyway," began the announcer, trying to shake out that image, "The cameraman…his real name is-"

"I'll finish that," the cameraman interrupted. "My real name is-"

At that moment, the camera fell over and the picture was completely blurry. After that, colorful striped lines replaced the blurry picture and a sharp beep ricocheted through the studio.

The cameraman plugged his ears and grimaced, wondering what had caused that. His eyes turned to the fallen camera, and if he had one of those light bulbs, it just might have flickered. He extended his weak arm out after standing up and placed the camera in its proper position.

"So, that's how I got my name," finished the cameraman proudly. He flashed the camera a perfect, gleaming smirk.

"You do realize that wasn't caught on camera, right?" questioned the announcer with a hint of apprehensiveness.

"Oh…."

"Eh, no matter. I'm sure no one cared to know your name anyway. The cameraman…he is the #2 Donkey Kong fan."

Now the cameraman was furious. He took his role as the #1 Donkey Kong fan extremely seriously.

"What do you mean by that!" the cameraman shrieked, his nostrils flaring with rage.

"That you're not #1."

"Yes I am! How dare you, you-"

Right then, a strip of duct tape appeared on the cameraman's mouth, as well as entirely around his wrists and ankles. As much as he wriggled about, he could not stand up or talk.

"Now now, cameraman…We must keep content appropriate fro the children. And we must keep you like that for eternity! Now my plan WILL be ever so successful! Muahahahahaha-" The announcer stopped to cough, then continuing his maniacal laughing.

"Mhmm. Ehme ehm emh! Mmmmhm!" the poor cameraman struggled to say through the incredibly strong tape.

"Now you know…the cameraman, the family-reunion-lover whose socks are pink due to syrup! MUAHAHAHAH!" the announcer practically screamed, sounding loud enough to start an earthquake. All the camerman could do was squiggle around in his chair like a restless worm, frenziedly babbling incoherently.

* * *

Dun, dun, DUN! What will happen to the cameraman? What is this plan of the announcer's? Will Yoshi ever show up? Why are some people afraid of toilets, and how will they go through life? Why am I asking you? Questions like these and more answered next chapter. 


	27. Condiments, Tutus, and Yoshi! Oh my! P1

This oh-so-wonderful story is coming to an end, oh the noes! There could be an extra chapter, but I'll figure that out later. Only the cameraman is mine. Peppy Anklyosaurus and Dr. Hoshi are property of Yoshizilla.

* * *

"MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" howled the announcer, who apparently felt very empowered at the moment. "And if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find a way to get Yoshi's fat green tail down here." 

"Mhmhrmhm!" the cameraman slurred as he uncomfortably rocked back and forth.

"Oh, and I'm sure you're hungry or need to go to the bathroom. You're free to go."

Suddenly, every inch of duct tape vanished. The announcer must have magical powers! Ooh!

The cameraman beamed and ran out of the studio to who-knows-where, yelling like some 4th grader who just finished his last day of school for that year.

The announcer heaved a sigh of relief.

"Now I can make a phone call without that fool interrupting," commented the announcer, dialing a very long number, then humming while waiting for someone to pick up.

The phone rang annoyingly in an attic. It was a mysterious, dusty one, one no one but the owner knew about. Unfortunately for the intolerant announcer, the owner wasn't there. Or at least didn't care to because he/she/it was busy doing something more important or interesting.

There was an awkward silence, which seemed worse than usual due to the cameraman's absence.

"I'm bored!" the announcer proclaimed for no reason, right before picking up a crumpled piece of paper and folding it into a paper football. The announcer flicked the paper across the dust-coated desk. This pointlessness continued until the paper football finally fell off of the right side of the desk.

"Score!" shouted the announcer, sounding absolutely foolish. Thankfully, the phone rang and interrupted this utterly strange moment.

"Hello?"

"I checked my phone. You called a minute ago," replied the raspy voice at the other end.

"Yes. Aren't you supposed to be getting me that green dinosaur thing?"

"Don't worry, I didn't forget. Is now a good time?"

"No, I'm calling to check on your Canadian pet boulder with the green graffiti," shot the announcer, who just wanted to get what he wanted.

"Hermes is quite fine, thank you," the one at the other end answered, believing the question was sincere.

Yet another inept silence occurred.

"Well, are you sending me the dinosaur, or what?"

"Yes yes, let me get my address book and a box." Soon there was crunching, paper crumpling, glass breaking, and cat screaming in the background. The announcer winced.

"So, are you calling me from the insane asylum yet?"

"Surprisingly not. Luckily, that cameraman recently left and has been gone a while. I don't know where exactly he went, but he did go in the direction of the nearest grocery store…"

**Meanwhile, at the grocery store**

The cameraman had a tough decision to make, and was deep in thought, contemplating. His hands move from side to side, left to right, as he tried making his final choice. He ran his hand through his thin dirt brown hair while tapping his left foot steadily. It was just too hard. What was a helpless moron like him to do?

"Hmm…horseradish-flavored mayonnaise, or mayonnaise-flavored horseradish?" wondered the cameraman, for he only had enough money to buy one or the other, along with a jar of cucumber flavored pickles for dipping.

"Horseradish-flavored mayonnaise is the way to go!" shouted an enthusiastic passerby, who liked like he had just emerged from a cheap gym and stopped by for an energy snack. "I use it all the time as a side with my flavorful steamed zucchini!"

"Don't listen to him, that stuff tastes like unminty toothpaste," a young woman argued, not caring if the word 'unminty' existed or not.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah!"

"You're wrong!"

"No, you are!"

"Oh look, ice cream-flavored cake!" the cameraman squealed in delight as he snatched a can from the dusty shelf.

And so the two brainless people's argument eventually escalated to physical fighting, and then an employee, the manager, the co-manager, and a plump man with a pink thong on his head came by.

By then, the cameraman found enough pennies and dollar bills hiding in the tiniest nooks and crannies to get both the mayonnaise flavored horseradish and the horseradish flavored mayonnaise. He skipped happily to the express line, where he picked up a small package of gum-flavored mints. Using a bulky bag of rolled up bills and excessive coins, he paid for his items and dashed back to the studio.

**Back at the studio**

"Ah yes, Yoshi, about time. Where is that cameraman?" the announcer muttered while forcing the poor green dinosaur into the uncomfortable chair on the stage.

"I'm back!"the cameraman shouted with a mouthful of mayonnaise-flavored horseradish and a chunk of a cucumber flavored pickle.

"Finally." The announcer paused. "What on Earth are you eating?"

The cameraman held up a tacky jar. "Well, this here-"

"Forget I asked. Go do your job."

The cameraman did a quick salute before running over to his little chair, directly behind his precious camera. He affectionately stroked it and chewed and swallowed the last piece of the cucumber-flavored pickle.

"Know your stars, know your stars, know your stars, know your stars."

Just then, two anomalous creatures threw the doors open, seizing attention of everyone. The one on the left seemed to have a sturdy yellow figure with a round head and a reptilian snout. The one on the right… was beyond explanation, to put it simply.

"It is I…DR. HOSHI!" shrieked the one on the right as he dragged in the yellow creature. "And this is Peppy the Ankylosaurus."

"Exactly what are you doing here?" questioned the announcer, right before the cameraman noisily crunched into another cucumber-flavored pickle. "Cameraman, could you please halt your unnecessary snacking?"

"Not only will I do that, but I'll stop eating as well," the cameraman reported proudly.

"We are here to take our friend Yoshi," Peppy said with a dazed expression.

"Too bad, my friend sent him over here for business purposes," the bored announcer replied tediously.

"In that case…" Dr. Hoshi began.

"…We're taking him!" Peppy finished as he ran over to his terrified pal.

Yoshi jumped unto Peppy's back with relief. Dr. Hoshi held the doors open for their escape.

"Not so fast!" the announcer snapped. "This calls for my customized robot."

Just then, a robot in the shape of a slender male in a tutu dropped carefully, causing the trio to scurry away. Once they caught a glimpse of the bright, rosy outfit, all three of them plus the cameraman burst out into laughter.

"You won't be laughing when I catch you three," the announcer's threatening voice rumbled from inside the robot. "Besides, when I have free time and more money, I plan on suing the company. I certainly didn't order this." The robot's head turned towards the cameraman. "You, keep an eye on the place."

The cameraman was hugging his camera and had tuned out the announcer.

"Oh, forget it." The announcer hit a button that caused the cameraman to go unconscious, and then stole the glistening pink camera.

The robot's head turned back towards the doors. "Oh poo, they already left. No matter, this can go up to 450 miles an hour…Okay not really, but I'm the announcer and I'll find a way!"

The announcer's robot stormed off speedily, causing grains of sand to float into the cameraman's mouth. Vibration made the chair wiggle back and forth, trying to maintain balance, but it failed and the cameraman's lifeless body fell onto the cold, hard floor, lying there helplessly.

That is, until small tapping occurred in the vent, which sounded like a small being crawled swiftly. Perhaps the cameraman was really having a lucky day, considering all the cash he had found earlier. One thing was for sure; the lucky streak surely wasn't over.

* * *

Pretty pointless, it may seem, but this story will have a better ending. You could call this one chapter split into two. Anyway, it will be up soon, since I want to get it written while the ideas are still fresh in my head. 

And if the cameraman were conscious, he would tell you to review, buy him another jar of cucumber-flavored pickles, stay in school, and something about unicorns. So at least be thankful for that.


	28. Condiments, Tutus, and Yoshi! Oh my! P2

Well, the story is finally returned to the good ol' 'announcer-insults-character-with-random-cameraman-stupidity' concept. I hope you enjoy it. The cameraman is mine, Peppy and Dr. Hoshi are Yoshizilla's, and Yoshi is a green dinosaur of Nintendo.

* * *

"You're squishing me!" one person snapped to another behind him or her.

"It's not my fault that you're fat!" was the second's reply.

"At least my momma doesn't look like a taxi when she wears yellow!"

"I don't have a mom."

"Will you two stop it?" complained a third person.

"Dude, where's my doughnut?" an additional person asked dumbly. Just from the sentence, it seemed obvious who that was.

"He ate it."

"I will so kill you!"

"Giga Bowser is so hot!"

"That's not right…" numerous people agreed.

And so on went the extremely senseless arguing. After a few minor slaps and biting, it got rather physical. As physical as fights can get in a vent, anyway.

The constant collision with the metal combined with the excess weight caused the entire vent system to collapse-coincidentally none on the cameraman. Once on the ground, the sheets of dirt tainted metal tore and fell apart to reveal all of the Smashers that had been insulted before, from the three narcissistic sword wielders to the pink-loving princesses to the sly little electric mouse. They all stared at the cameraman, each with their own expression. Some felt sympathy, some were amused, some couldn't care less, and some just cared about getting to their manicure appointment on time.

"We have to help him," Mewtwo said calmly, shattering the silence that had filled the air like fog.

"Why is that?" Zelda asked saucily. "I wouldn't, not after how he criticized my singing." She turned the other cheek arrogantly. Link shifted awkwardly.

"Um, honey, I don't know how to tell you this," the swordsman in green began his head turned towards his russet boots. "But you can't sing. At all."

"What! Linkie boy, how could you? Doesn't someone disagree?"

"Actually, I second Link's statement," Mario voiced.

"Third," called out Ganondorf.

"Fourth," said Nana.

All the others had either been fortunate enough not to hear Zelda's singing, or they were too nervous to share their thoughts. The room was filled with awkwardness once more.

"Enough!" cried Mewtwo, rubbing his head as if he was going to get a migraine. "We must revive this man."

"Why is that?" Popo questioned as he messed with his wily ebony hair.

"We all want revenge on this 'announcer' person, do we not? Well, this cameraman is the most likely candidate to help us find out about him or her to do so. So no matter what it takes, we must awaken him and pump some knowledge out of him. I even have DK merchandise for bribery," Mewtwo explained thoroughly, walking over to a hefty bag and holding it up for everyone to see.

"Wow, Mewtwo, you're so smart," Peach commented hollow-headedly. She then resumed her finger twirling in her golden blonde hair and stared at a stain on the wall. Due to dust and the gloomy paint color of the wall, it was hard to tell exactly what that stain was from.

"And so," Mewtwo concluded after poking his body several times. "It seems he will need to be given CPR."

"The Crusty Pringles Revolution?" Young Link asked eagerly.

"He means CPR as in breathing into his mouth until he wakes up," an annoyed Samus replied, stepping away cautiously. Apparently, she didn't want to be the one to do so, and who could blame her?

"Let's make this short. You!" Mewtwo commanded, pointing at Zelda, feeling empowered. "You will give the cameraman CPR."

"What! No way!" the Hylian snarled disgustedly as her pale, tiny nose wrinkled. She shuddered at the very thought of doing that to anyone, excluding her little 'Linkie boy'.

"I'll give share my doughnuts with you," Marth offered, just before pulling out a perfectly glazed doughnut. His eyes gleamed with hunger and amazement, but not much later did the pastry end up in his mouth and down his throat. The prince smiled with satisfaction as he rubbed his now plump belly.

"Eww," the princess grimaced. "Do you know how many calories are in those, Marth? I mean, look! Your butt's bigger than your head because of those grease rings!"

Marth turned around in curiosity and glanced at his rear. Sadly it was true. He slightly frowned in displeasure.

"Oh well," he said simply. "It's worth it for those beauties!" Yet another was shoved into his mouth.

"Forget it, I'll do it. I can't stand watching Homer here eat doughnuts and listen to Mewtwo trying to be smart." She took slow, deep breaths, like she was in a peaceful yoga class. Nervously, she approached him, knelt down, and grabbed his head, which was moist from a colossal amount of drool. Shuddering, she used his sleek rose glove to wipe away the saliva and pressed her lips against his. Her breaths went into the cameraman, one by one, each bringing him closer to consciousness. Eventually, his eyelids slowly opened to reveal parts of his childlike hazel eyes. The cameraman was almost fully awake, but Zelda's eyes were shut tight so she wouldn't have to see herself giving CPR to an idiot. Somehow, both of their eyes opened in sync, causing both to instantly break away and scream as loud as possible.

"I can't believe I just did that!" the female shrieked, aghast.

"I can't believe she just did that!" the cameraman echoed in terror.

All of the other Smashers tried to hide their laughter as they went through pictures they had discreetly taken while Zelda wasn't looking.

"This will earn me mega bucks on the Internet," crooned Kirby greedily.

"Ah, cameraman," Mewtwo greeted, breaking the giggling. "Good to see you. We need your assistance, believe it or not."

"For what?"

"Well, in case we're being watched…"

The psychic Pokemon whispered the plan into the cameraman's ear. Afterwards, he signaled to everyone else to huddle around and discuss exactly how to do this.

"So our plan is to…"

**Meanwhile, somewhere in the Eastern Hemisphere**

The announcer's robot violently rampaged after Peppy, Dr. Hoshi and Yoshi, crushing everything in its way. Unfortunately, two Germans, one Russian, eight Americans, and someone's overdressed poodle were stuck to either of the robot's feet. Whether they were living or not was unknown…

The trio ended up in Japan, frantically searching for an airport of some form of transportation. Much to their relief, an airport was in Tokyo. Peppy stomped along as the exhausted other two rested on his back. Despite that he swore he would break down into a puddle of yellow goop any second, Peppy was fuelled by determination to get his friend safe. He sneaked onto the next flight, which coincidentally took them close by the Know Your Smashers studio.

**Hours after the flight…**

Once the plane landed, Peppy sneaked quietly out a small door and ran to the Know Your Smashers studio to see the cameraman. Yoshi and Dr. Hoshi began walking themselves beside the tired Ankylosaurus. With just a few more large steps, the three were back at the studio, assured that they were safe from the announcer, finally able to rest….

How far from the truth were they.

"Announcer!" Peppy exclaimed in panic.

"Oh, did I forget to mention my robot has a 'Teleport Back to Studio' button," the announcer, who was back in his/her/its studio, queried mockingly. "Because it does."

"YOU…must die!" Dr. Hoshi yelled, twitching with anger.

"Anyway, Yoshi. Have a seat. I've been waiting for you."

Yoshi was then somehow forced into the notorious chair, and Peppy and Dr. Hoshi were trapped in a cage. The other Smashers were either gone or hiding safely.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers," the announcer began.

"Yoshi…he's getting divorced for the forth time this week"

"From what?" Peppy asked curiously.

"From your momma!" the announcer snapped, feeling more authorized than ever before.

"Uhh…" Peppy stuttered, trying to come up with a comeback. Regardless of their inabilities to deeply insult the announcer, they were going to stand up for Yoshi and translate his sayings just as the cameraman had done fro DK. Besides, if karma existed, the announcer was in for it big time…

"Yoshi…his shoes are red from human blood."

"Really? I thought it was cranberries," the cameraman commented, back in his rightful place. Or as close as he could get to rightful, anyway.

"Not, silly cameraman, that's Mario's hat," the announcer reassured him.

Dr. Hoshi butted in with, "It's from PIZZA SAUCE!"

"Right…" Peppy trailed off.

"Yoshi…he was raised by Santa Claus before meeting his redneck band," the announcer proclaimed.

"I always thought that was Kirby," Dr. Hoshi murmured, thoughtfully contemplating that, followed by the meaning of string cheese and if pinkies were fingers or not.

"No, I even have a picture of it up here of Yoshi with a banjo," the announcer replied with hints of snickering. "Ah, I love these files…"

"So maybe," the cameraman analyzed excitedly, bouncing up and down in his chair. "His shoes are red from the rotten tomatoes thrown at them. It must have stained them permanently." The cameraman looked proud of himself.

"Good job cameraman!" the announcer squealed. "You get one of Donkey Kong's old ties."

Suddenly, a ripped garment of clothing fell. It seemed to have multiple banana pudding blotches of many sizes.

"Eehee!" the cameraman squeaked, holding it as it were as precious as a newborn infant to a mother. He ran back to his chair and promised to himself to eternally treasure it.

"Yoshi…he was a Barbie doll in a past life."

"Cool!" cried the cameraman, though no one knew why.

Peppy's face was a tomato. He scraped his foot against the dirty floor, ready to break out any second. Dr. Hoshi looked pleased.

For once, the announcer actually sounded frightened, scared, intimidated. The mighty announcer. Even the cameraman noticed and found it hard to believe.

"A-and no-now y-y-you know, Yoshi, the-the banjo-playing redneck with blood-stained shoes," the announcer concluded. Goodness knew what the announcer was doing up there, but it sounded like he/she/it was attempting to take cover.

With ease, the yellow creature ripped through the metal bars like they were construction paper. He roared, causing the studio to gently vibrate.

"It must be time," Mewtwo muttered from inside a secret room, where he and all the other Smashers were safely hidden. He smirked, as the plan was going as planned.

* * *

Next chapter…Never mind, I don't want to spoil it.

Cameraman: Save the unicorns!

Disregard that…unless you want excessive hugging from a mindless DK-loving freak…


	29. The Announcer?

This is pretty much the story finale. The chapter that comes after this is just a bonus chapter that will hopefully inspire you all to contemplate, wonder, and explore.

Excuse the cheesy philosopher statement.

This is an extremely long chapter, which could be separated in two separate chapters. Except I'm the author, and I don't want to do that!

Disclaimer: You already know it, and if you have been reading since the beginning, or near it anyway, have most likely memorized it.

* * *

The cameraman, Yoshi, Peppy, and Dr. Hoshi scurried to the hideout Mewtwo had formed, which actually was formerly a closet for storing old magazines. Ness, who obviously wasn't thinking at the time, assumed setting them on fire would resolve this problem with ease. Of course it didn't, so Pikachu fished through Pokeballs until a Blastoise set it out, to sum it up without wasting too much time.

"Here's the map," Samus reported, pulling out a map she had somehow obtained through one of the announcer's 'sources'. Every floor, every nook, every cranny of the studio was sketched on the tattered map. Everyone, even the cameraman, stared in awe, as none of them had expected the studio to have so much hidden space.

"So, now the announcer is cowering pathetically in his room," Mewtwo recapped as he motioned his hand in a circle around the announcer's office on the map. "Now, two of you small creatures have to do the first part in order to successfully complete this. The first will deliver this envelope with a tranquilizing gas bomb inside. Exactly one minute after it gets into the office, it will go off and the announcer will be out cold. The second will drop in through the ceiling and snatch his top-secret file. That one has all of his personal information, which we will sue against him for vengeance." Mewtwo snickered darkly, as he could already taste the sweet revenge.

"Pichu will deliver the envelope, and afterwards Ness will drop in and get the file," Mewtwo instructed.

The yellow creature and the psychic boy nodded. Pichu nervously took the envelope with his tiny mouth and used his arms and legs to scamper up a set of stairs. His mind raced as he strained to remember every turn to take. Getting to the announcer's office was like going through the labyrinth. Beads of sweat dripped down his face and his heart seemed like any moment it would burst. But the Pokemon was driven by revenge's power, giving him enough energy to zoom up the last set of stairs.

Alas, the gruesome physical work and mental rush had paid off. On a door with chipped painted was a rectangular scrap of metal with two words encrusted in it.

'Announcer's Office', the sign read.

Pichu tried to conceal his excited squeal and lightly slid the envelope through the space between the door and the floor. This time fuelled by an accomplished feeling, Pichu gracefully skipped down the stairs. In almost no time at all, Pichu was back in the little hideout.

Meanwhile, the announcer was cramped in a corner between two filing drawers. Too scared to simply poke the envelope, the announcer just froze with fear and waited for something to happen. After a minute of pure silence, the envelope made three quick beeps, and suddenly filled the whole room with a perfume-like mist, causing the announcer to fall over, losing all awareness.

"Well done, Pichu," Mewtwo congratulated. Since he had psychic abilities, he knew that the bomb plan was successful. He then turned to Ness. "Now, you already have all of your necessary equipment, so I will teleport you to the air vent that leads to the announcer's office. You will tie the end of the rope to part of the air vent and carefully drop down. Grab the file with a red stamp marked 'top-secret', and climb back up. The bomb only works for so long, so you must be quick. Good luck."

"Pi pi pichu chu chu? (Why couldn't I have been teleported up those stairs instead of running?)" Pichu asked.

"I have my reasons," Mewtwo replied.

"Pichu pichu pi! (That's not fair!)"

"Enough arguing. Ganondorf! Bowser!"

The warlock and the giant turtle instantly appeared, smiling evilly. Pichu backed away in fear, but Ganondorf used some magical warlock powers and disabled his ability to move. Bowser took a tan barrel and steadily held it and Ganondorf stuffed Pichu into it. Mewtwo finished it by teleporting him somewhere in the world.

"Mewtwo! How could you be so cruel?" Peach scolded.

"Well, he did ask to be teleported, so he got it."

"I see…"

"See what?" Young Link questioned as he popped out a fresh bottle of Lon Lon milk.

"Do you even know what's in that? It might not even be cow milk!" shot Peach, shuddering.

"Don't be silly Peach! Of course it's cow milk." Young Link pointed to the ingredients label. "See? According to Falco, platypuses are an exotic kind of cow from Monigolichinia!"

Peach opened her mouth to speak, but decided to refrain from spoiling the fun of the naïve-minded boy.

By now, Ness was taking deep breaths and cautiously coming down into the office. He could just barely see the file. As he lowered himself little by little, Mission Impossible music played in the background. It was probably because of Mario, as he loved that song for whatever reason.

His fingers stretched and finally managed to get a good hold of the file. He climbed back up the rope anxiously. The announcer mumbled and moved from side to side occasionally, but other than that, everything was fine. Ness literally gave himself a pat on the back and crawled through the vents until he jumped down into the hideout through an opening in the vent.

"Excellent," Mewtwo gushed to Ness, as it seemed all the other Smashers were partying.

Mewtwo scowled. A carpet of chip crumbs covered the floor, along with colossal globs of salsa. Most people were either doing the limbo, dancing to the Hokey Pokey, or talking to a random person/creature next to him/her/it. Or all of the above, plus trying to gnaw someone's eyes out with a spork.

"SILENCE!"

The party instantaneously ceased.

"Now, the announcer will wake up soon. This is when we all take part," Mewtwo said.

"So, Ness," Fox asked, going rather off-topic. "What did the announcer look like?"

"Well, I peeked out of the corner of my eye, so I couldn't really get a good look. But it had a (color censored) (part censored) that look suspiciously like it belonged to (name censored)."

"Aww, no fair!" bleated the cameraman. "You got to see the announcer before I have, and I've worked for him, for like, a really long time!"

"Seriously?" Captain Falcon asked in surprised. The other Smashers were also shocked.

"We thought you've already seen him," Fox replied.

"And that you just never said anything to avoid being killed," chimed in Popo.

"Nope."

The Smashers absorbed this piece of information. Marth's eyes were blank with confusion, so of course he ate a doughnut.

"Smashers, 'tis time!" Mewtwo cried dramatically. "Vengeance shall be ours. Come!"

Everyone cheered before being teleported to the front of the announcer's room.

"Jiggly jig jig puff? (Where's Pichu?)" Jigglypuff inquired.

In Mexico… 

Pichu used his electric powers to break through the sturdy wooden barrel. It did cause pain, but Pichu quickly forgot about it by gorging himself in tacos and fried ice cream. He wore a sombrero and did some kind of dance.

"Pi pichu! (I'm actually glad to be here!)" he told himself.

Just when all was going well, Pichu vanished.

Back at the studio… 

Pichu was teleported back by Mewtwo, since Jigglypuff annoyed him into doing so. Now everyone was going through the file, searching for juicy tidbits of information to use to blackmail the announcer.

Just around then did a grunting sound come from the office.

"What's going on?" the now conscious announcer asked sleepily.

"Ahem, testing, 1,2,3," the cameraman began, making sure the old microphone he found in another closet was working.

"Cameraman? What in the name of cheese are you doing?

"Announcer, you've been mean to me, and it's time I take a stand," the cameraman calmly answered, followed by those three words. The announcer had no time to complain about the cameraman's betrayal and such.

"Know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers, know your smashers."

"The announcer…it has a pair of bunny slippers," Mario started.

"So what if I do? I don't even wear them…"

"The announcer…it always keeps a can of canned pears by a lamp," Link read from a paper.

"The scent is quite invigorating."

The Smashers weren't quite sure about that.

"The announcer…it smells like an infected cage at the zoo," Ness retorted.

"Where did you get that from?" some Smasher close to the back of the crowd wondered.

"Well, I could tell when I got the you-know-what."

"Oh..."

"It's not my fault!" the announcer whined, sounding slightly offended. If this pattern continued, then this whole plan would be very successful.

"The announcer…it uses Snuggle fabric softener as a cologne," Marth squelched.

"It's cheap and smells good!" the announcer reported proud, yet still a slight tone that made it obvious that it was offended.

"The announcer…" Ganondorf continued, "it has a pet hot dog."

"Don't talk about Herbert J. Stuart the way!" the announcer cried defensively.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Zelda noticed happily.

It was Roy's turn. "The announcer…it used to wash redneck's feet for a living."

"Hey, at least I had a job! Even though it was torture…" the announcer trailed off into flashbacks of sadden and disgust.

"The announcer…it is addicted to the Home Shopping Network," was Peach's insult.

"How do you know? Besides, their stuff can be useful!"

"The announcer…it bought a solar-powered flashlight from HSN two weeks ago!" Kirby mocked.

The Smashers laughed at the stupidity and irony of this.

"Only because I had too many guacamole nachos! And I get crazy when that happens!" the announcer yelled in a poor attempt to justify the foolish purchase.

"Pi pika pika…pikachu chu. (The announcer…it was a unicorn in a past life.)," Pikachu shot.

The announcer, who actually understood Pokemonish, or Pokemonese, or whatever that language Pokemon speak is called, said, "At least I'm not an electric mouse with an ugly tail!"

Pikachu broke down crying, and since water conducts electricity, he spontaneously burst into flames. Whether that is possible or not didn't matter, for anything could happen at this point. Pikachu ran around, screaming in pain. Strangely, he wasn't dead yet. So Pikachu ran up and down the stairs, trying to remember how to stop, drop, and roll.

"The announcer…it escaped from an insane asylum three months ago," Falco cracked.

"They let me out, I swear!" the announcer replied apprehensively.

Bowser quipped, "The announcer…it has been to over 250 insane asylums in its lifetime."

"I thought it was over 400, plus 50 intensive care hospitals for those with seriously messed up minds?" Zelda interrupted.

"ZELDA! HOW COULD YOU!" Mewtwo screamed.

"Huh?"

"The order is the next person on the list insults the announcer, the announcer responds, and so on. Because you messed up the cycle, you are hereby sentenced to being trapped in a coffin with sardines!"

The Hylian princes let out an ear-splitting shriek that eventually faded into an echo as she disappeared to her coffin.

"I'm not going to even say anything to that…" the announcer squeaked.

So Zelda's turn was skipped, allowing Jigglypuff to go.

"Jig jiggly puff puff jig. (The announcer…it bought an air guitar from eBay.)"

"It wasn't from eBay! Theirs are poor quality. Mine are from Amazon!"

Laughing was heard in the background, which lowered the announcer's self-esteem even more.

"The announcer…it idolizes Michael Jackson," Fox said as he looked through some of the papers from the file.

"Is that so wrong? I like his dance moves!" the announcer moaned. Except the announcer can't dance because it's a (spoiler censored)…

"The announcer…it had to get surgery because it couldn't lift a pencil," was Captain Falcon's repartee.

"Like you should talk, Mr. Muscles of Plastic!"

Captain Falcon frowned and sat on a step.

"The announcer…its favorite show is Desperate Housewives!" Luigi announced for everyone to hear. Or at least pretend to hear it while they were really trying to stab people's eyes with sporks. Whatever.

"Why must you torture me?"

"BECAUSE YOU ARE ANNOUNCER…AND ANNOUNCER LIKES FRIED TUMBLEWEEDS AND COWBOY BOOTS!" roared Donkey Kong.

The cameraman's jaw dropped. One of the very few things he didn't know about Donkey Kong was revealed.

"I was forced to eat tat while I was in Texas…"

The cameraman, Dr. Hoshi, and Peppy imagined being served a thin, silver platter at a Texas restaurant with hillbillies, rednecks, and people with missing teeth for waiters. All of them shuddered and grimaced.

"The announcer…" Mewtwo mumbled as he desperately searched through the papers of the file. "Oh gosh…Ah! Here! It has an extensive collection of poodle skirts!"

"How dare ye make fun of thy poodle skirts," the announcer riposted.

"Are poodle skirts made from poodles?" Peppy asked blankly.

"No, Peppy," Dr. Hoshi said with a sigh.

"Beep beep bop betty boop beep beep!" Mr. Game and Watch beeped stridently.

"Huh?" everyone in the Know Your Smashers building asked, including the hobo who was showering on the 3rd floor with leftover maple syrup.

"Let's skip that…" Mewtwo suggested.

"The announcer…it steals from video stores across the nation and blames random red-headed teenagers for it," Young Link retorted.

"So that was you!" was Roy's rejoinder at the announcer. "Accusing me for stealing 'The Little Mermaid' from that video place in that one place."

"Oh so descriptive," Nana muttered sarcastically to no one in particular.

"Anyway…the announcer…it joined the Anti-Short People in Parkas Act a year ago!" an enraged Popo bellowed as he read one of the pages of the file.

Nana's face was combined with repulsion and antagonism. She was going to give him a hard whacking with her weapon when she saw it.

"The announcer…it has visited over 26 therapists and over half of them quit their jobs and lived on a deserted island as environmentalists!" Samus sneered with delight.

"It's not my fault! At least that' what my newest therapists tells me to tell myself in order to stay calm…IT DOESN'T WORK!" boomed the announcer.

"Obviously," Samus said under her breath.

"Pichu pi pichu chu! (Forget this, I'm going back to Mexico!)" Pichu commented before jumping out a window and running into the horizon.

"Okay then…the announcer…its mother went to prison for giving birth to such a creature!" Nana exclaimed.

"She might have…if I had a mother…"

"Oh, look at me, I'm playing the World's Smallest Violin," Dr. Hoshi remarked bitterly.

"Ooh! Is it invisible?" the cameraman inquired eagerly.

Mewtwo shot the cameraman a glare, causing him to stop talking.

Dr. Mario added, "The announcer…it gave a tarantula to a charity instead of money."

"IS THAT MY FAULT, REALLY!"

"Yes."

"Well…you don't have to rub it in…"

"The announcer…it is really a big poo poo head!" the cameraman yelped like a child.

"…Wow, that was…interesting…" observed Samus.

"YAY ME!" The cameraman hugged DK for no reason.

"The announcer…it should be eaten by all Yoshis!" Yoshi demanded.

"Wow, Yoshi talks too," the cameraman noted.

Before Dr. Hoshi, Peppy, or the announcer could talk, a giant, white, somewhat blocky glove swung in through a window. It could move on its own, and it had five fingers. Why, it was the Master Hand from the original Super Smash Brothers!

"Who are you?" a bunch of people asked in unison.

"I AM THE SSB MASTER HAND! FEAR ME!"

People blinked, crickets chirped. It was a classic awkward silence.

"I am here to see this announcer." He noticed the sign and used his mighty fistly power to smash through the thick door. After the chips of wood, metal, and some drops of blood that belonged to various people cleared up, the announcer was revealed.

It was none other than the Master Hand from Super Smash Brothers: Melee!

At that time, both of the Master Hands laid their, um, whatever they see/sense out of, they rushed towards each other as quickly as possible.

"I never knew my old self was so beautiful!" the Master Hand cooed.

The other Master Hand admired, "I didn't know the newer version of me was so dazzling!"

Yoshi tried to use his lengthy tongue to capture the Master Hand's finger and eat him, but the two hands eloped to some foreign getaway. The Smashers just stared in amazement. The Master Hand hadn't said one word, shed one tear, or made one violent gesture. He was too distracted by the other Master Hand.

At that time, Crazy Hand came in through the same window the other hands had flown out of.

"Has anyone seen the Master Hand?" the Crazy Hand asked hopefully.

"No. How do you know him?" Link interrogated.

"I was the one who the Master Hand called for delivering Yoshi. I was always there to support him…" the Crazy Hand trailed off into fantasies of being with the Master Hand, just the two of them.

"Well, sorry to break the news to you, but the Master Hand fled with the other Master Hand," Ganondorf told the Crazy Hand.

The Crazy Hand was very disheartened, even though hands don't have hearts. In other words, the Crazy Hand was ever so sad.

"Oh well. It can never be then…"

During that time did Yoshi remember how violently the Crazy Hand packaged him. With fury and hunger, Yoshi stuck out is sticky tongue and with every ounce of strength, pulled the Crazy Hand into his mouth, chewed a little, and ultimately swallowed the hand.

"Yoshi ate the Crazy Hand!" gasped many of the Smashers.

"…Now what?" Peppy pondered.

"We shall later publish this file for all to see, and make billions," an ambitious Captain Falcon suggested, posing heroically. Or at least he thought so.

"But now, we PARTY!" screeched Kirby.

"YAY!"

Everyone partied and chased each other through the entire building. People still tried to stab other people to death with sporks. The party was very long, indeed. Afterwards, the building was made into a publishing company. They worked together to put the Master Hand's file into a book, sold it sometime in the summer, and made a huge amount of money. But sadly, some rich person bought the company, and the Smashers moved to Oklahoma where they lived on flat soda and grilled armadillo. It is rumored that they lived this way for the rest of their lives. Others believe that they became rich again miraculously and moved to mansions. As that overrated saying goes, the rest is history.

The Master Hand was so narcissistic that he married the older version of himself. He stole a bunch of copies of the Smashers' book and spent time burning them. When he wasn't gazing at himself, that is.

And that concludes the glorious story. Now some sappy music will play to dramatize this sad moment!

….

…

…

…"I HAVE A PET UNICORN!" cried the cameraman as he stood on the cliff of a mountain.

**THE END!**

* * *

…Wow, that was veeeeeeeeerrrrrry long. Eh. Please send your thoughts on the story and this chapter.

Thank you for enduring this story of peculiar proportions!

Oh yeah, and if you want, stay tuned for the bonus chapter! It's utterly pointless, yet somehow educational! Yay!


	30. The Story's Morals

And as I promised, here is the bonus chapter. Characters that have died/been eaten/disappeared for whatever reason are back to take part in this one. Isn't it wonderful?

* * *

After surviving the insane, wild, defying-the-laws-of-nature and just plain illogical pandemonium that is this story, the Smashers have gained so much more wisdom and knowledge. In this chapter, they intend to share it with you readers so you will avoid these mistakes and know what to do in case you happen to fall into them anyway.

Yes, the story's morals. According to the Smashers, of course.

"Exactly why are we here?" Zelda asked skeptically. "I thought this was over! And besides, I was supposed to be in a coffin of sardines!"

"No wonder you smell so bad!" the Crazy Hand jeered.

"Hey, I thought you were eaten?" a puzzled Roy wondered.

"This story isn't supposed to make sense!" Mewtwo announced, looking as he he was going to burst from stupid questions. "And besides, according to the author, we are supposed to share our knowledge and insight on this unbelievably outrageous experience."

Everyone stared blankly. It seemed that this whole experience had drained their intelligence, if anything. But after a 5-hour long explanation that will be skipped for time, the Smashers at last understood the point.

"Well, what I learned is that talking hands are very mean!" Mario announced.

"I learned that John Frieda hair products make my beautiful hair smoother than silk!" Link crooned vainly as he ran his slender fingers through his hair.

"It has to be related to the story, meathead!" Dr. Mario sneered.

"And I get to look forward to this in seven years…" Young Link sighed sadly.

"In that case, I learned that most people couldn't tell the difference between skirts and tunics!"

"I learned that music from Mission Impossible is quite annoying!" Ness said.

"I learned that doughnuts cam make you gain an immense amount of weight," Marth was wretchedly looking through a Weight Watchers pamphlet.

"I learned that blue-haired swordsmen never listen to reason!" Zelda remarked. "And that my voice can break camera lenses!"

"I learned that blue-haired swordsmen look eccentrically like pregnant women after eating too much!" the guy from chapter 20 that thought Marth was pregnant admitted.

Marth gasped. "NOT YOU AGAIN!" Breathing heavily like a bull, he took his gaudy sword and sadistically swung at the man, causing…

(Scene censored for intense violence! We apologize for any inconvenience!)

So a rather large puddle of red fluids layered the floor. Dr. Mario, who seemed rather disturbed by the whole experience, took out the man's body to a dumpster. Meanwhile in the bathroom, Marth was cleansing his sword with Lysol wipes, since Zelda forced him to.

"Anyway, I learned that some people suffer very violent deaths!" Fox commented.

"I learned that I need to keep my underwear in a fire-proof safe to prevent it from being stolen by giant monkeys," Peach said, thinking about how long it would take to replace some of the pairs that were eaten, stolen, and/or lost.

"What I learned was that therapy doesn't always heal moments that scar you for life!" Samus cried before literally crying. Except no one saw the tears because of her suit…

"I learned that I need to go on steroids!" Captain Falcon said.

"I learned that fooling youthful elves is quite entertaining," Falco stated with a smirk.

"I finally learned what a platypus really is," Young Link chimed in. "And if you'll excuse me, I think I'll head to the bathroom." Young Link dreadfully hoped Marth was done.

"Beep beep boom boom bop!" Mr. Game and Watch beeped and bopped.

"I learned that anti-4Kids people are brutal!" Nana exclaimed. She winced as she rubbed a bruise on her knee.

"ME LEARNED THAT THIS CAMERA GUY IS FUN TO BE AROUND! ESPECIALLY WHEN WE STEAL PEACH'S UNDERWEAR!" Donkey Kong hollered.

"Aww, Donkey Kong!" the cameraman gushed. "That's great!"

"I learned that the only difference between Mario and I is the 'Dr.' part of my name," Dr. Mario confessed.

Bowser said, "I learned that putting small beings in barrels is fun!"

"I learned that ham frightens me like the announcer said," Ganondorf sorrowfully acknowledged.

"I learned that having people ask if your sister is your girlfriend is quite disturbing!" Popo shuddered.

"Jig jig puff jiggly! (I learned that even though my singing puts people to sleep, it's still better than Zelda's!)" Jigglypuff barked.

"Pi pi chu pi (I learned how fun of a vacation place Mexico is!)" Pichu added.

"Pika pi chu chu. (I learned that karma does exist, and being a snitch is bad.)" Pikachu whispered shamefully.

"I learned that I can phenomenally transform from a puddle to my human form!" Roy said proudly.

"I learned that just because Jigglypuff and I are both pink puffballs, people automatically assume we like each other. Darn stereotypes!" Kirby scoffed as he crossed his arms. Or tried to, anyway, since they were so small and round.

"I learned that I shouldn't shop for cameras in shops with slow employees when I work for an egotistic talking hand!" the cameraman realized. "And that gum-flavored mints are like mints, except they taste like gum!"

"I learned that insulting over two dozen is an entertaining job, but it causes migraines!" the announcer, or the Master Hand, said. "Thankfully I'm a hand, I don't have to worry about it!"

"I learned that no one makes a better spouse than the newer version of yourself!" the older Master Hand burbled with passion.

"I actually understand and relate to those cheesy love songs that are overplayed on the radio!" cried Crazy Hand, stroking a picture of the Master Hand. Not much later, the Cray Hand threw it out the nearest window with envy and fury.

"I learned that Yoshi and Dr. Hoshi are pretty heavy and carrying them is tiring!" Peppy said.

"I learned that cameramen can be scary…" Dr. Hoshi muttered.

"I learned that my plans always turn out the way they should," Mewtwo said triumphantly.

And so…now that everyone has shared their astuteness, the story is over!

"Wait, wasn't that last chapter?" Roy asked.

Don't argue with the author!

"But-"

OH FINE!

(insert some sappy music)…**THE END!**

Oh yeah, and what I learned is not all stories have useful morals! So thanks for reading Know Your Smashers!


	31. ZOMG ANOTHER BONUS CHAPTER 11one!

**ZOMG ANOTHER BONUS CHAPTER!11one!**

So, you thought it was over just because I said so? WRONG! We never did find out how the cameraman got his job, as he appears randomly, so this is the story of how our beloved moron came to be the accomplished cameraman he is today!

And if you remember correctly, the Master Hand is the announcer, so he will be referred to as both. I'm only adding that because this is coming after the end, although it takes place in between chapters 11 and 12.

* * *

The announcer sighed as he tidied up the office to prepare for camera crew interviews. His dream was to tape all of the Smashers being insulted and sell it online. With the money, he would create an empire of penguins and unicorns in order to take over the universe…

In the middle of Master Hand's fantasy, some knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

Giga Bowser stomped in, his huge body crushing through the door. He tried to sit in a chair next to the Master Hand, but predictably he broke it.

"So…" the Master Hand paused in fear. "What makes you think you would be good for the position of the cameraman?"

Giga Bowser roared, allowing the pungent odor of egg salad to waft through the air. Luckily, the Master Hand had no nose, but unluckily he still sensed it. He grimaced.

"You'd do nothing more than scare them away with your size and breath! And I'm getting my attorney to make sure you pay for the door and my chair! NEXT!" the announcer screamed, throwing a bottle of Listerine at Giga Bowser as he exited.

Next was a female wire frame. She sat down in a chair, strangely the same one as Giga Bowser, which meant either a plot hole or magic. Wowz.

"So, what skills or qualities make you suitable for this job?"

The wire frame stared…except she had no eyes, thus this was impossible. So ultimately she sat there with a blank expression on her face. But she has no face…

The Master Hand sighed and shoved the wire frame out since she didn't move. The wire frame left, shaking her fist vengefully.

And so, the cycle of asking questions and forcing hopefuls out continued, for 50 hours, to be exact. It's not like hands have to stop to eat or sleep or anything similar, at least that's what everyone thinks…

Just as the Master Hand was ready to give up, a cheery man with a Donkey Kong cap walked in, reciting the verses of the DK rap to himself.

The announcer was skeptical, but he decided that this fool was his one last hope.

"So…what makes you suitable…for the job?"

"I'd like the banana cream pancakes with extra whipped cream," the man said, obviously hallucinating that he was at IHOP.

"Stupidity makes him suitable," the announcer mumbled, scribbling optimistically on his clipboard.

"Sir, do you by chance know how to operate a camera?"

The word 'camera' snapped the man out of his trance. "Of course I do! I mean, I have to in order to take pictures for my beloved shrine."

"What?" asked the announcer.

"Nothing…"

"So, what is your name?"

"My name is-"

At this time, Master Hand's computer blares, "YOU'VE GOT MAIL!"

"Hold that thought."

Of course, this was impossible as well, as the man never did think. And if he did, the thought flew out of his head faster than Pichu ran over burning coal on the 4th of July.

"Dear random person who is reading this message,

Beep beep bop boop beep beep! Beep beep bep bip bap beep. Screech squawk moo cluckity cluck cluck cockily doodle doo. BEEP!

Signed,

Mr. Game and Watch, who has no life"

"Oh," the Master Hand said flatly. "How desperate is that 2-d figure for attention anyway?"

"So, do I get a prize or something?" the cameraman asked impatiently.

"No, but you do get the job as my cameraman. I guess that will be your nickname too."

"YAY ME!" the cameraman shouted, imagining how much easier it would be to actually pay for DK merchandise than steal it.

* * *

And now you all know that the cameraman got his job by accident…

So NOW the story is over…or at least it has a missing piece.

Now you can go wonder if I'll make an SSBB edition. Or make a shrine dedicated to your favorite Smasher like the cameraman (whose name remains a mystery still).


End file.
